


Canvas

by LePetitCroissant



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-02 14:32:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4063492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LePetitCroissant/pseuds/LePetitCroissant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Chloe ever has to do is look at Beca and the younger woman obliges her every whim and desire. Beca's not really sure how it even happens, but she often finds herself regaling Chloe with stories about the ink on her body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Grasshopper

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is my first published Pitch Perfect story! I'm hoping to post a bunch of these as oneshots about Beca's tattoos that have been shown on screen and a couple I'm gonna throw in there myself. Chloe's got some tattoo stories to share too, so she's probably gonna get a couple of chapters too. These will be set anywhere between the first movie and the second one, and will not be following any specific order.
> 
> Now enough from me, read on and enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: Everything related to Pitch Perfect belongs to Kay Cannon and the Pitch Perfect crew.

It started like it always did; Beca would be trying to actually get things done, and Chloe would barge in and disrupt her flow.

(Beca lived for these moments, her little procrastinating heart would sob in gratitude at the interruption.)

Today, Chloe finds herself strolling into Beca's room just as the brunette starts pulling at her hair. The redhead decides to halt in the doorway, leaning against it with a smirk as she watches the huge book situated on Beca's face try to devour the tiny Bella's head.

"Hey, Becs. Trying something new?"

She's met with a grunt, then a muffled reply.

"Why isn't learning via osmosis a thing yet? It's the 21st century, I have rights, dammit!"

"Let me guess, it's for your dad's class?"

She's met with more hair pulling and generally disgusted sounds.

"Ugh. He's giving me extra credit. Except he's not actually giving me any credit. And it's more like forcing than giving. Why did I minor in Lit again?"

Pushing off the doorframe, Chloe watches as Beca's book slides off her face, an amused smile playing at the corners of the redhead's lips at the disgruntled pout adorning Beca's features.

"I'm not actually sure. You said something about evening the scale and keeping both parents happy and out of your hair by doing something in both their fields?"

Beca hears the question in Chloe's tone, frowning as a sudden thought occurs to her. She waits until Chloe's made herself at home like she always does before turning to face her, head tilted to the side.

"Y'know, because Mom's a musician? Violinist for the New York Philharmonic?"

Beca can see already big blue eyes get even bigger and she's pretty sure that that should be physically impossible. But the look in Chloe's eyes tells her that she has, indeed, failed to mention this little fact to her _best friend_. The light smack she receives to the shoulder causes her to wince as she prepares for a Chloe outburst.

"No, I don't know! God, Beca! We've known each other for over a couple of years and _now_ you tell me this? What else don't I know about you?"

The young brunette swallows, slowly shrinking back into the mattress as her redheaded companion narrows her eyes and looks her over. The younger Bella slowly raises her arms, ready to shield herself from any of the violent pillow attacks Chloe's prone to unleashing on her, and inadvertently gives Chloe exactly what she's looking for.

"Aha! What about that? What's the story behind that?"

Beca blinks, timidly lowering her arms and peeking out at Chloe in confusion. The redhead merely rolls her eyes and gestures emphatically at the inside of Beca's right forearm.

Beca blinks, looking down at the ink stained into her skin in the form of a grasshopper.

"It's a tattoo, Chloe."

A pillow smacks her in the face.

She tries again.

"It's a grasshopper tattoo, Chloe-"

Second pillow.

Before she opens her mouth to express her frustration, Chloe cuts in, explaining herself.

"Tattoos have stories, Beca. They're reminders of things, and they're not exactly easy to get. There's always a reason behind getting one – be it a genuine and heartfelt reason for getting it, or a drunken night on the town. Although the latter kind is generally more entertaining, I don't think yours fall under that category."

Beca just sits there, her lips slightly parted as she listens to Chloe get philosophical about _ink_. After she raises an eyebrow, an amused smirk setting into place, Chloe just rolls her eyes, continuing.

"They're a part of who you are, the reasons you got them must have had a big enough impact on you for you to go and etch a permanent reminder into your skin – a painful reminder might I add. There's just so much I don't know about you, Mitchell. You've got so many layers, you're like an onion."

"You totally got that from Shrek, didn't you? You are a huge nerd."

"Hey, I'm not the self-proclaimed movie loather that actually understood that reference. Who's really the nerd here, Becs?"

After a beat of silence and an intense staring contest, Chloe's penetrating baby blues win, and Beca is settling back against the headboard with a huff. She lets out another overly annoyed and exaggerated (playful) huff when Chloe excitedly bounces in her place twice before scrambling over to sit shoulder to shoulder with the brunette with absolutely no care about all the books and pens she scatters in her wake.

She does, however, look horrified when she almost sends Beca's laptop to the ground, her Bella co-captain glaring poisonous daggers the entire time as they both scramble to grab hold of it.

Needless to say, Chloe keeps still and silent, not pushing her luck at the moment by prodding Beca to start her story.

"My cousin Julian and I used to go to Central Park as kids every weekend with Mom and Aunt Elliot. And every weekend we were on a mission to catch grasshoppers."

Chloe makes a face as she turns her head to look Beca in the eyes.

"Ew, Beca. You actively sought out grasshoppers? You were a total tomboy, weren't you?"

"Shush you. Besides, you have a thing for ladybugs, they're insects too."

"Yeah, but they're adorable insects."

"Do you want to hear the story or not, Red?"

Chloe makes a zipper motion across her lips at that and gives Beca her full attention again.

"Where was I? Oh, right. Our moms would roll their eyes whenever they'd spot us crouched and ready to pounce, and they'd shriek in terror when we came back after a successful hunt.

Over the years, that became our thing. Whenever we needed to blow off some steam or one of us was upset about something, we'd make plans and head to Central Park. We even had to sneak each other out on some occasions.

A few months before my graduation, Aunt Elliot's husband got this promotion – in San Francisco. Julian and I were about to be separated indefinitely so we decided to go on one last, insane, grasshopper hunt. The final result of that hunt was him and me, seated in Joshua's – my tattoo artist – shop, getting matching tattoos of grasshoppers."

The redhead beams at Beca as she finishes her story.

"That's really cute, Becs. And it explains that time during Bellas rehearsal when you expertly caught that grasshopper that was jumping around the hall and almost causing Aubrey to blow chunks."

The nostalgia that had crept into Beca's voice as she told the story comes to an abrupt stop as the DJ scowls.

"I am badass, Red, not cute. Take it back."

Snorting, Chloe just waves Beca off and starts groping herself in the hopes of finding her phone.

"You are totes cute. I even snuck a picture of you that day in the rehearsal. You had this smile on yo-"

She doesn't get to finish that sentence because she's suddenly pinned down on top of the bed by a tiny yet surprisingly strong frame. Expert fingers begin flying at her sides, mercilessly tickling her.

"Take it back, Red! Call me a badass and we'll call it even."

Shrieking in laughter, all Chloe gets out is a breathless, "Never!" which only serves to spur Beca on further.

What Beca didn't count on, however, is the counter attack by the redhead who rolls them over… right onto the floor where Chloe lands painfully on top of Beca.

Dropping her head onto Beca's shoulder to muffle her laughter, the co-captain shakily asks if the younger Bella is okay, to which she receives a pained groan, igniting her giggles once more and making the ginger shake uncontrollably on top of Beca.

It was this compromising situation that Fat Amy walks into, yelling something about having "called it!" and turns to leave the two very confused captains alone – her voice trailing after her as she takes the stairs down two at a time.

"Use protection!"


	2. Headphones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the help of the Bellas and the unaccepted arrival of a piece of mail, Chloe coaxes another story out of Beca.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Another one! Huzzah! So it’s my birthday today, and I had this need to get something out there for whoever is reading this. 20 sure is making me feeling more adulty and mothering.  
> Now go; read, enjoy, and maybe say something about it!

In hindsight, Beca regrets letting some people know where she lives. 

It’s her birthday and all she wants is a quiet night in with her friends, ordering obscene amounts of food and jamming to ridiculous pop music behind closed curtains. Because while she loves hanging out with her awesome weirdos, she’s still not willing to do more damage to her (non-existent, as the Bellas insist) “street cred” – being in an Acapella group does enough of that, thank you very much.  

But it’s the Bellas, and more specifically, it’s Chloe and Beca just knows that it’s wishful thinking of her to assume she’ll get away with getting what she wants just because her birthday falls in summer and everyone should – in theory – be away for the holidays.

So that’s how Beca finds herself sitting on the living room couch, between Stacie and Fat Amy, pinching the bridge of her nose as she listens to the girls brainstorm themes for the birthday party they’re throwing her.

Her hand slips into her hair to pull at it (as she so often does when her nerd herd is having these Bella debates) because Stacie is discussing the pros and cons of a sex-themed party. Beca’s not even sure _what_ that would look like when Stacie makes a sweeping gesture with her hand, enunciating her words like they’re holy, and painting a picture for the girls.

“And strippers. Strippers everywhere.”

Much to Beca’s terror, Stacie is seemingly winning some of the girls over because she sees some of them nodding – Cynthia Rose more vigorously than others – and she’s mentally leaping with joy when Flo comes in with the mail, throwing something towards Beca.

She’s almost ecstatic with the interruption until she spots the emblem on the envelope.

Beca’s too occupied with deciding what’s more horrifying: the fact that they’ve found her, or the fact that people are still sending letters as communication in this day and age, so she doesn’t move fast enough to snatch the envelope off the table before any of the girls notice it. And how could they not, it’s a black envelope with flaming white headphones printed on them. Damn the senders and their flare for the dramatics.

So Beca finds herself trying to climb Stacie because the leggy brunette is really tall and she’s obnoxiously holding the envelope high up out of reach like Beca’s some child who’s being punished by keeping their favorite toy out of reach. When the short captain starts to actually make some progress, Fat Amy sighs and gets up from her seat, pulling Beca off and putting her in a headlock.

After the initial five seconds of struggling, the brunette simply goes limp in Amy’s grip, effectively admitting defeat.

Beca just drops her head into her hands, sinking so low into the couch in the hopes of becoming part of the upholstery as the envelope is passed down amongst the Bellas before settling into Chloe’s hands, the ginger lifting one impeccable eyebrow as she opens it up.

Clearing her throat, the redhead starts reading aloud, “You only turn 21 once. Meet us at The Dungeon. We’ll jam so hard it’ll melt your face off.”

Beca is pretty certain her face is already melting off. It feels too hot; surely it’s on fire?

It doesn’t help that Chloe sounds endlessly amused when she asks her if there’s something Beca would like to share with the girls.

 She barely peaks one eye from behind her fingers and regrets it immediately because Chloe’s looking at her in that way that makes her heart race.

Beca’s still not sure what that means. She doesn’t dwell on it, not when Chloe’s got that tiny smile playing at the corner of her lips that makes Beca wonder if they taste like peaches from the lip balm the ginger likes to use all the time.

Her brain short circuits after having that thought because she’s definitely not supposed to think that about her _best friend_.

Right?

She figures the best way to distract her mind from those embarrassing thoughts is by launching into a different kind of embarrassing. So the DJ takes a deep breath and lifts her head, starting her story with resignation.

“I was kinda sorta maybe in a band when I was in high school.”

The Bellas smirk, all of them raising perfectly-shaped brows at her in one super creepy synchronized motion – all except for Cynthia Rose who let out a snort, asking Beca how she passed the height limit required.

Beca threw her a sarcastic smile and the finger before continuing.

“I played the drums. We weren’t all that bad, if I do say so myself. We just never took it seriously enough. We mostly fooled around in my garage,” Beca allows herself a smirk before finishing the thought, “mostly because it would piss my parents off. My dad hated the band so much, it was ridiculous. He didn’t even live there anymore because of the divorce.

In reality though, we were just a bunch of misfits that liked being disappointments by pulling ridiculous pranks like taking apart the drama teacher’s car and reassembling it in the auditorium, or gluing the principal’s furniture to the ceiling of his office, and getting absolutely shitfaceed while we did it.”

Chloe’s voice brings Beca back to the here and now, her vision tunneling on the redhead and her amused half smile as the surrounding Bellas unintentionally become white noise (unfortunately not before Stacie gets the chance to ask if drummers really do do it harder. She chooses with all her might to ignore Stacie, especially when Chloe looks at her with a secretive, almost expectant smirk.)

Yup. Beca’s definitely got some stuff to work out about herself. Just as soon as her stomach stops doing backflips and cartwheels.

“What were you called?”

“Like you can’t guess it, Chlo.”

“I wanna hear you say it.”

Beca swears this girl will be the end of her. So she swallows her pride, and pushes the words out through clenched jaws.

“The Flaming Headphones.”

The Bellas burst into laughter.

Beca eventually cracks a smile herself.  

Flo, who is kind of like a louder version of Lilly in the sense that she’s always catching the Bellas off guard with what she has to share, speaks up next.

“One time, a gang kidnapped me and forced me to get a tattoo on my ass as part of the initiation.”

The girls stare for a minute before starting to move along, pausing when Beca snorts and puts her left hand out, with her wrist facing up.

“Yeah, we did the matching tattoos thing too. The rest of the band got the elaborate and ridiculous design on that envelope while I chose to keep it simple. I wanted to piss my parents off, not get a permanent regret.”

Looking around, Beca’s surprised because the girls look… touched. Then she realizes that while she’s known them for over two years now, she’s never so willingly shared so much of her past. Beca makes a mental note to let her Bella family in more often. Chloe’s soft smile and the proud look in her eyes only reinforces the idea.

Soon enough, the group disperses and the girls go about their other tasks, and Beca feels relieved because her impromptu walk down memory lane caused her friends to forget planning her birthday, so she’s sure she’s gotten out of it.

She hasn’t because that weekend she walks back into the house and is jumped by the Bellas and just about anyone who is still on campus yelling an eerily-harmonized “surprise!” while images of headphones and fire decorate everything – a certain redhead standing in the lead with a naughty smirk on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hear ye, hear ye.
> 
> Come one and come all, for lo and behold, I have joined the confusing and button filled world of tumblr.
> 
> Come find me @dishonoringthefamilycow, let's talk, bounce ideas off each other, and just be merry!


	3. Ladybug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe offers a story of her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for comments, follows, and kudos! Getting those emails make me happy, but more importantly, they make the muse happy which helps in getting more of these out. 
> 
> Read on, and enjoy!

All Beca wants even before opening her eyes is for the world to stop spinning and for her head to stop feeling like the Bellas are doing heavy metal Acapella in it. She swears that if she survives this hangover, she’ll forbid the girls from ever partying ever again.

(That would never happen, but a girl’s gotta make some kind of promise to the deities so they ease up on her head just a little. She’s desperate.)

The brunette is dimly aware of a couple of things: 

a)              She’s lying on the floor, a soft carpet beneath her fingers.

b)             She tentatively believes there is no light wherever she is, which could mean that there’s either no windows, or she’s been out of it for a day.

_“Must have been one hell of a party…”_

Eventually, Beca admits defeat and barely cracks one eye open, breathing a sigh of relief that she apparently had remembered to close the curtains even in her drunken state, even going as far as pulling the blackout curtain into place.

Bracing herself, Beca throws her body weight onto her side, unintentionally putting too much of her weight into the action and she ends up face-planting on the carpet with a pained groan.

She finds that she doesn’t really care to right herself just yet and instead she makes the conscious and adult decision to lie there with her face buried in the floor until someone finds her and fixes her position.

Her new vantage point allows her to see that she’s lying next to a bed that is distinctly not hers – the deep, rich hues of purple of the sheets identify the room as Chloe’s.

The hand hanging limply off the side of the bed also alerts Beca to the fact that she is not alone in the ginger’s bedroom. Her groans must have alerted this person to her presence because she receives a groan in return, the hoarse voice that follows putting Beca’s mind at ease.

Chloe whispers, wincing as she does so because her voice is too loud even for her.

“Thank God someone’s there. I’ve been lying here for an hour now and I haven’t moved at all. I thought I was dead.”

“Ugh, Chlo, please stop being so cheerful right now.”

“Next time we’re throwing a party, remind me to just not.”

“Okay.”

They lie there in silence, Beca wondering what she’s done in her past life to deserve this kind of karma, and Chloe tries to silence the jackhammer in her head.

It takes Beca a few minutes to focus, but she eventually does and finds herself staring at the redhead’s still limp hand hanging off the side of the bed, the dot of ink that is Chloe’s little ladybug tattoo a stark contrast with the ginger’s fair skin. She’s not sure why, but Beca finds herself breaking their silence and asking about the tattoo, curious about the story behind it.

“Come on, Red, I tell you my tattoo stories whenever you ask.”

Chloe’s takes on a soft, faraway tone – as if she’s going back in time to relive what she’s about to put into words.

"I was four. My family and I were vacationing at a cabin we own. It was our last day there and my parents, grandparents, aunts, and uncles were inside packing up while my brother Liam, our cousins, and I were sent outside – with Liam in charge, even though he was only eight. But he wasn't very interested in playing with me – none of them were – since I was the baby of the family, the little sister that Liam was too old to play with and that got on his nerves – I'm sure you can envision me as a child."

Snorting ungracefully, Beca manages a reply, "I imagine not much has changed."

The ginger smiles – even though Beca can’t see her – as she continues.

"If what my parents say is to be believed, you're probably not that far off. Anyway, as I said, Liam had no interest in playing with me; he was too busy with his new gaming console that my uncle Connor had gotten him and the rest of the boys. The girls were all older than me and had no interest in having a tea party with me anymore – they preferred playing hide ‘n’ seek, and I was deemed too young and unfit to join them.

Liam finally snapped and told me to get lost – so I did.

Not on purpose of course, but I got so upset I ran away – wailing – into the woods around us. I must have tripped on a branch or slipped or something because next thing I knew, I was tumbling down a hill until I finally came to a stop.

I had gotten caught between some jagged rocks – that's when I got the cut which left the scar on my forehead – that prevented me from falling further into a raging stream below."

By this point, the brunette just lies there, her interest solely on Chloe.

(The redhead had that effect on Beca. It was almost too easy sometimes.)

"I was bawling my eyes out, my forehead was bleeding, and it hurt really badly too – along with the rest of my body. I began screaming for my Mommy and Daddy to come get me and promising to never be bad to Liam ever again if I could go home at that very moment."

Beca can’t help it, but she smiles a little because a four-year-old Chloe sounds like the most adorable thing, even if Beca’s convinced she was probably a huge handful.

"It was getting dark and I was feeling tired, cold, and scared out of my mind. My voice was almost gone from all the screaming and the pain in my body was reduced to a constant throb, but it was still there. All I remember was wishing for someone to come and find me when a ladybug flew into my line of sight and landed on the back of my hand. Then another one came and another one until I had exactly ten ladybugs on my arm.

I was so focused on the tiny insects that I failed to hear the leaves crunching underfoot around me, but then I heard it.

People were calling out my name in the distance, but one call stood out amongst the rest. Somebody was yelling out “Little Mermaid” – I was obsessed with the movie and all things mermaids. I was totes convinced I was Ariel too. Still kinda am.”

Beca’s smile widens, a little chuckle escaping as images of a half-naked redhead in a seashell bra and a tail invade her mind (the chuckle dies quickly enough because those same images are sending her mind reeling into the gutter at lightning speed) and she makes a mental note to try and make a mix for Chloe using the Disney movie’s songs.

The ginger rolls her eyes, a faint smile blossoming on her face as she hears Beca laugh. It takes her a moment to collect her bearings again and continue the story.

“Anyway, the nickname was something only my grandfather used to call me. The sound of his voice gave me a renewed sense of energy and I began yelling out again to help him find me.

Paddy – that's what we called my grandfather, his name was Patrick – was the first one to stand above where I was trapped. He ignored all my uncles' and my dad's protests for him to step to the side and let them get me – instead he took off his jacket and came down to free me himself, carrying me back to the cabin all on his own and being with me the entire time I was getting medical treatment and stitches to my forehead."

When the silence stretches between them, the ginger realizes that she didn’t exactly offer any explanation on how this story led to her tattoo. So she tries to amend by explaining further for Beca, who she’s sure is sporting a confused frown and is preparing some smartass comment.

"In some countries, ladybugs are considered signs that a wish will come true. I was wishing for someone to come find me when they showed up, followed by ten people finding me – the same number as the insects that landed on my hand, one for each person. The ladybugs were my lucky charm, my saving grace if you will. So when I turned sixteen, with my parents' approval, of course, I went ahead and got my tattoo."

Beca rolls her eyes, because _of course_ Chloe’s teasing her by mentioning the parental approval. The brunette also finds the story to be super adorable, but she would rather listen to Stacie’s sex stories in all their gory details than to admit that to Chloe. Or ever use the word ‘adorable’ out loud.

Chloe smiles to herself; it’s been years since she’s remembered that story. The redhead makes a mental note to call Paddy soon as she’s feeling better.

The pair of girls lie there in comfortable silence afterwards until their peace is interrupted by the rest of their housemates waking, be it Fat Amy hollering that they’re out of food, Cynthia Rose complaining that someone’s hogging the bathroom again, or – and this is Chloe’s favorite – Stacie sneaking back into the house through the ginger’s window after a “hunt” and crashing to the floor after tripping over Beca who just continues to lie there, letting out a muffled “ow” and nothing else.

Later in the week, Beca’s just gotten up to close the window when a ladybug lands on her finger, eliciting a faint smile. Before she’s said or done anything; however, a certain redhead is rushing into her room, squealing in excitement about how much she loves the Disney mix Beca made her.

The brunette merely smiles, looking back at the little ladybug on her finger one more time before letting the insect fly off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hear ye, hear ye.
> 
> Come one and come all, for lo and behold, I have joined the confusing and button filled world of tumblr.
> 
> Come find me @dishonoringthefamilycow, let's talk, bounce ideas off each other, and just be merry!


	4. Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe accidentally walks in on Beca and learns something new without even pushing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you all for your reviews, favorites, and your kudos. You're all wonderful, and getting these notifications are the best part of my day. 
> 
> I have this headcanon that Beca's basically a musical genius, and Chloe probably gets her to play stuff for her all the time using a ridiculous amount of charm and those big blue eyes. 
> 
> This one is also quite longer than the others, so read on, leave me a review, and enjoy!

It’s been two years since Beca stepped foot in their rehearsal area. It’s been two years since she’s so much as looked at it.

She’s mended her relationship with her father; she’s even built a relationship with her step-mother. But if she’s being honest with herself, it’s her baby brother’s upcoming second birthday party that’s the reason she’s moving towards it after everyone has left for the day.

The boy – Kyle – came as quite the surprise for Dr. David Mitchell and his wife. The bigger surprise, however, came when Dr. Mitchell panicked after getting the news and ran for the hills, leaving his wife distraught and his clueless daughter royally pissed.

_ Flashback _

_The beer can to the back of the head took him by surprise._

_Yet his face showed absolutely no emotion when he turned from his precarious perch on the edge of roof to face his irate daughter._

_"I should have known you'd be here. After all, this is where I run to when I need a minute. What are you, five? Did you seriously throw a temper tantrum and leave your wife – who hasn't been feeling well lately – all alone at a random restaurant? What the hell, Dad?!"_

_David Mitchell simply turned back to the mixing hues of the sunrise ahead of him, the oranges and golden yellows captivating his mind in a way that blanked it completely – providing him with a moment of peace. But his peace was short-lived as another beer can smacked his shoulder._

_"She's pregnant."_

_Beca barely choked down her surprise._

_"So help me God, Dad, that better not be the reason you ran and the reason I spent the night hopping from bar to restaurant to hospital trying to find you instead of curling up in bed. Because if that's why you ran, I'm going to go get a six pack and bash your head in with it. Repeatedly."_

_David Mitchell rolled his eyes in a manner that left no question as to where Beca got her own eye-rolling talents from before dryly replying._

_"Why, Rebeca, you sound like your mother more and more with every passing day."_

_The DJ rolled her eyes in return, biting back a tiny smirk as she said nothing more and approached him, taking a seat next to him and dangling her feet over the edge by his._

_"I take it this wasn't planned."_

_"No."_

_"So you don't want the baby?"_

_Dr. Mitchell sighed._

_"This is why you and Mom got a divorce. You're finally getting what you wanted."_

_"It isn't that simple, Beca. Your mother and I loved each other a lot. I'm sure you remember those times too, not just the bad."_

_She stayed silent._

_"After Sheila and I met and got married, we talked about kids. We even tried a few times, but it didn't work. I took it as a sign that I wasn't meant to have any more kids than you. And Sheila was okay with this. But now…"_

_"Dad, what's the problem?"_

_David looked at her with teary eyes that startled her._

_"I'm scared, Becs. I'm too old to have a newborn baby. And God knows how badly I messed up my first kid. I don't think I can do this."_

_"Well, running definitely doesn't help. But you're getting a second chance. You and I had a rocky relationship, at best, but we've gotten past that, things are better with us now. And don't forget that we were pretty close before the divorce too. I was a total Daddy's Girl. Still am, in some ways. With this kid, you get the chance to do it all over again and actually make it work from the first run. You are too old to be a new parent again, but it's not like you'll be alone. You've got your wife; you'll be together every step of the way. And me. You've got me, Dad."_

_David smiled at his daughter as he wrapped his arm around her and she laid her head on his shoulder._

_"Are you volunteering for babysitting duty?"_

_"I'll even enlist all the Bellas to help. It takes a village."_

_That got a chuckle out of her father._

_"How do you feel about this, Beca?"_

_"I-"_

_Shaking her head to clear it, the brunette smiled up at her father._

_"I'll adjust and be okay with it soon enough. I am really happy for you though, Dad."_

_David's smile grew larger when Beca punctuated her sentence with an unexpected kiss to the cheek._

_The DJ rolled her eyes._

_"Don't get any ideas, Old Man. I'll deny it ever happened if you make too big of a deal out of it."_

_She got to her feet after a few minutes of comfortable silence and pulled him to his._

_"Come on, you've got some groveling to do.”_

_ Flashback end _

The memory fades just as Beca shakily sits down on the bench. She idly wonders why there is even a piano in the rehearsal space since they don’t actually use it.

As her hand runs along the lid hiding the keys from her fingertips, she thinks about Kyle again. Her dad is always telling her how much the toddler’s like Beca when it comes to music; most of the time, it’s the only thing that soothes him. Beca’s even seen the effect some notes or a couple of sung bars have on him when she babysits. That’s why her dad owns a spinet piano at home. David Mitchell is not anywhere near as good as his ex-wife, and definitely not as brilliant as his daughter, but playing that piano for his son has saved him on many sleepless nights.

Or so he tells her.

In reality, she knows he’s bought it on the off-chance she’ll play again.

She tried to one night when it was just her and Kyle, but the moment she sat down on the bench, Kyle in her lap looking up at her in curiosity, a sadness filled her and the lump that formed in her throat almost suffocated her.

If it weren’t for her brother being all alone, Beca would have spent the night locked in the bathroom, trying to drown herself in tears.

Now, as she lifts the lid and runs one finger delicately along the keys, not yet applying any kind of pressure that would elicit a sound, she thinks about how it’s time to let go of the past and do this again. Her smile is soft when she imagines the look of wonder and delight that would surely bloom on Kyle’s face if ( _when_ , she tells herself fiercely) she plays for him.

Taking a deep breath, her fingers align themselves without her having to put much thought into it. Because while she loves what she can do with music now, this will always be her first love, what got her started on the path that brought her here; for Beca, playing the piano is like riding a bike. She’s never forgotten how.

So she closes her eyes and lets her memory drift as her fingers take over for the first time in about three years.

Beca’s so caught up in what she’s doing, her mind filled with images of when she was a little girl and spent all of her time playing complex classics with her mother, that she doesn’t notice Chloe – who’s only come back in because she’s lost her phone and is hoping to find it here – slack-jawed and standing stiff as a board, watching her.

The last notes of Beethoven’s _Moonlight Sonata_ are still hanging in the air when Chloe breathes out an awe-struck “wow,” and effectively jolts Beca back to reality, the brunette’s eyes popping open and widening at the redhead as she stumbles to get away from the piano as if it was poison.

This shocks Chloe, who then starts heading towards Beca at a rapid pace, her enthralled smile doing nothing to calm Beca who just wants to get out of the building.

Trapping her by the arm, Chloe gently inquires as to why Beca has never mentioned that she plays the piano before.

"How do you lead a musical group for two years without revealing that you can play a musical instrument?"

Rolling her eyes, Beca throws a smirk Chloe's way before replying.

"Because we sing songs without any instruments. It's all from our mouths."

The redhead faintly blushes because she walked right into that one. Never one to back down though, Chloe smirks back and throws her own comment in.

"I knew you could work magic with those fingers, I just never knew to what extent."

The ginger relishes the feeling she gets at the sight of Beca blushing. It doesn’t take long before she herds Beca back behind the bench and pleads for her to play something else for her.

Beca swears those big blue eyes will be the death of her one day. Nevertheless, she settles down and plays Mozart’s _Piano Sonata No. 11_ , Chloe taking a seat next to her and watching her fingers work on the keys without effort, occasionally looking up at Beca with a delighted smile that has Beca already mentally planning what to play next.

When Beca’s done, she is met with a round of applause and high-pitched squealing as Chloe gushes because “it was fate that brought her back in here at just the right moment” and that the ginger was “totes going to make you play for me and the Bellas more often” and how “Bree is so going to lose it when she hears about this,” and Beca is suddenly overwhelmed with the sadness and can’t bear to stay where she is.

As she stumbles away from the piano, leaving Chloe confused in her wake, tears blur her vision and a searing burning pain settles into her bones while her ribcage seems to fill a heavy weight that threatens to crush her heart.

While Beca falls ungracefully onto the floor, a shaking mess, Chloe’s sits stiff again and worried beyond words. All it takes is Beca releasing a strangled sound for Chloe to fly off the bench and gather the younger woman into her arms.

The ginger sits there with her arms full and her lips pressed intimately against Beca as she whispers sweet nothings into the brunette’s ear until she feels the shaking subside. It takes another five minutes or so, the redhead’s soothing words never faltering or stopping before Beca’s opening up on her own, her words unsteady and her tone utterly broken. Chloe knew that she was about to get her heart broken.

"Nana Mitchell was just about the only member of my dad's family that I could stand. It was my seventh birthday when my parents told me they were having another baby, and I was seven and a half when they miscarried for the first time. The next three years went much in the same manner, their fights getting more intense – the distance between them growing.

Eventually Dad couldn't deal with it all and they called it quits. For those last three years until their divorce was finalized, Nana was my rock. She lived right down the street, and whenever I saw Mom leave the bathroom with a pregnancy test in hand – a blank look on her face – I knew what was coming. I used to ride my bike down to her house and spend the night with her – sometimes the next few days, depending how bad my parents fought.

The first few times she had scolded me for leaving without telling my parents, but once she understood all that was going on, she would be standing at the door before I could even dismount from my bike. Then she would leave Dad a message, always telling him that there was no rush for him to come get me. I spent the entire summer after the divorce with her - refusing to go home.

She was my world, the most important person in my entire existence. Then, during the last few days of my junior year of high school, I went to visit her on the weekend like I always did and found Dad and Aunt Elliot with her in the living room having a conversation. Aunt Elliot was gripping Nana's hands and crying into her shoulder, Dad didn't look any better – so I stayed hidden in the kitchen to eavesdrop. Boy do I wish I hadn't.

I heard them talking about radiation and chemotherapy and begging Nana to consider those options as well as surgery – it doesn't take a genius to figure out what they were talking about. So I did what was expected of me – I ran. Straight into the tree house Dad had built for me in her backyard when I was little. Seeing as I haven't really grown much since I was twelve, the tree house was still a comfortable fit, gave me enough room to ball up and cry my eyes out – until Dad got there.

Apparently I had slammed the back door hard enough to attract attention to my presence. He squeezed in beside me and held me – nothing else; he just sat there and let me sob into his shirt, soaking it through. After a minute, I began to feel his tears in my hair which just left me bawling harder.

I needed someone to tell me that it wasn't true, that the only person that ever cared and loved me to the ends of the Earth wasn't dying of cancer.

But she was, and she was being stubborn about it all – refusing treatment, saying that she didn't want to prolong her death in such a heinous way.

Eventually she did get chemo after I joined my father and aunt in begging her. I moved in with her and I took care of her until the very end.

She fought so hard and so bravely – she was determined to see me graduate. And she did, she held on until my senior year and my graduation where she sat front row in her wheelchair – she even stood up to clap for me when they called me, cheering me on the loudest.”

Chloe’s surprised when she feels moisture on her face, and even more startled when Beca’s hand wipes it away.

"She died that night, in her sleep. It was like she was on a mission to watch me graduate high school, and after she accomplished that she could let go.

I stayed at her grave all day and night until my cousin Henry came and literally carried me away kicking and screaming.

I locked myself in my room at her house. I didn't eat or sleep, I couldn't even mix – all I did was cry nonstop.

Until one day the following week of her burial, Dad came by. He tried coaxing me out, told me he had something to give me from Nana, but I wouldn't believe him – I thought it was just a trick to get me to leave my room. So he gave up, and I heard him shuffling away from the door, but not before he slipped something in from under the frame.

She had written me a letter at some point.

She told me to hang in there, that the world wouldn't end or stop on account of her death. She wrote me that she will always be with me wherever I went. Told me to never give up on my dreams and keep making my music – that it had brought her so much joy and that I should be sharing that joy with the rest of the world, to not be selfish and hide my gift all to myself. She had faith in me and my abilities and knew I'd go on to accomplish great things. I would one day find the perfect person that I would share all that with and then I'll look back and remember her with happiness and not the sadness she was sure was threatening to consume me at that time.

Her letter made me promise to honor her, and I did.”

Chloe’s not sure what Beca’s trying to say, but she watches patiently as the brunette brings her attention to the floral tattoo on her shoulder.

“I took a shower and headed out to see Joshua and I got the flowers done – her favorite.”

In that moment, Chloe feels more love than she’s ever felt for anyone in her life, and all she wants to do is hold onto Beca until the pain trickles out of the brunette and she’s smirking and teasing and being her usual surly self.

Wiping her face, Beca gets to her feet, pulling Chloe after her and heading back to the bench. Somehow, talking about it, specifically to Chloe, makes Beca feel lighter and helps with her plans to let go of the past. So she doesn’t feel like she wants to hide under a blanket and cry her eyes out when she sits Chloe down and keeps talking.

“I want to share Nana's favorite piece with you. This was the very last thing I played for her three years ago before quitting altogether.”

Chloe is too tongue-tied to say anything, so she just nods and settles her head on Beca’s shoulder as the latter’s fingers softly play Beethoven’s _Fur Elise_ , Chloe feeling the way Beca’s breathing evens out and her shoulders relax as the song progresses further and further.

Chloe’s almost afraid to disturb the peace after Beca’s done, but her curiosity wins out and she’s once again wondering about how it’s possible that she didn’t know Beca could play the piano.

“Why didn't you ever tell me you could play piano?”

“It never came up, Red.”

“I would have made you play for me every day. I still might.”

This provokes a surprised chuckle out of Beca, who retaliates with a bit of her usual snark back in her voice.

“Maybe that's exactly why I didn't tell you, Red. If you think this is impressive, you should see me with a violin."

Chloe's head snaps in the smirking captain's direction with wide eyes.

“You play violin too?!"

Beca’s chuckling again because Chloe’s reactions are priceless.

“I do. I play guitar, drums, and the bagpipes too, in case you were wondering. I'm thinking about learning to play the accordion, as well.”

 Beca’s sure Chloe’s eyes will pop out of their sockets if they widen any further.

Chloe, on the other hand, is internally freaking out because all of a sudden her _best friend_ is insanely attractive to her, and the more she looks at Beca – who’s now sporting an amused smirk – the more she wants to kiss her senseless, but that’s not how _best friends_ feels about each other, right?

Right.

The ginger is still sitting on the piano bench when Beca gets up and grabs her stuff, saying something that Chloe misses completely because she’s more concerned with wondering how she can get her hands on a violin. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hear ye, hear ye.
> 
> Come one and come all, for lo and behold, I have joined the confusing and button filled world of tumblr.
> 
> Come find me @dishonoringthefamilycow, let's talk, bounce ideas off each other, and just be merry!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca's tired and groggy and generally unfit to be walking about, let alone driving. So Chloe gets her to tell a story in an attempt to keep her awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I apologize if this took longer than the previously published chapters; those were already written as part of a bigger story that I never got around to finishing - and so only needed some minor tweaking - while this one I had to come up with from scratch. This one is written about a new tattoo I noted after watching the second movie (and a bunch of Youtube videos just to be sure) so don't worry if you don't remember this or something. 
> 
> I do have a tiny request to make; I have another idea for a tattoo for Chloe, but I can't seem to figure out where I want her to have it, so if anyone has any suggestions, I would love to hear it! As always, your follows, favorites, kudos, and comments continue to give me life, and are much appreciated. 
> 
> And just to state the obvious, J.K. Rowling owns all seven of the Harry Potter books, including the quote mentioned within, while Star Wars is owned by Disney and all.
> 
> Phew, there's the end of the long A/N. Now onto the even-longer-than-the-last story! Enjoy!

She’s not sure how she got here, but Beca’s head has been fuzzy all day so she doesn’t really care that she’s lying on her side with her head in Chloe’s lap watching Star Wars of all things.

Her eyes keep blurring as they have been all day, but it doesn’t matter because she feels Chloe absently slip her fingers into her hair, the scratching and massaging she feels against her scalp is doing wonders on her. Before she knows it, her already aching and drooping eyes get heavier, so she eventually caves and falls into a rapidly-increasing feverish dream.

Her last fighting thought is that she has to stay awake because Princess Leia is on and is wearing the slave outfit Beca loves.

It isn’t too long before she jolts awake and she’s mumbling something about a stupid falling feeling when she feels a soothing touch get gentler as Chloe brushes back Beca’s hair.

The brunette’s covering her face and trying to calm her still racing heart and slow her resulting rapid breathing, so Chloe waits patiently but worriedly until Beca finally unveils her face.

The younger Bella has to squint her eyes to focus on Chloe’s increasingly concerned baby blues (not that it does much good; the redhead is still blurry and Beca swears she’s starting to faintly swirl around in her vision too).

She’s struck with the stray thought that Chloe’s eyes are such a startling shade of blue that Beca doesn’t even need to look at her face head-on to see them most of the time. Not even the darkness around them in the room does anything to dull the bright blue that’s promptly becoming her favorite color.

Beca’s just starting to think about how much she enjoys relaxing and getting lost in the redhead’s eyes (an idea that surprises her so much it clears up some of the fog settling into her head) when Chloe speaks so softly she doesn’t have time to dwell on her bizarre thoughts – not when Chloe sounds so worried and all Beca wants to do is take away the worry.

“You okay? I didn’t even realize you fell asleep…”

Beca groggily sits up, trying to be casual, but failing when her voice comes across hoarse.

“I’m fine, s’been a long day and I guess it’s just starting to catch up with me now. No worries though, I’ll be back to my cranky self after I get some sleep. Eventually.”

Chloe continues to watch her, unconvinced.

“For serious, Chlo, I’m good, so stop looking at me like I’m bleeding to death. I am going to head out though, but I’ll be back after the weekend.”

This gives Chloe pause. Beca lives down the hall; what does she mean she’ll be back after the weekend? Where is she going?

Placing a hand on Beca’s arm to stop her from crawling – sluggishly, she notes with a frown – out of bed, Chloe makes her questions known.

“Dad asked me to come over for the weekend and babysit Kyle while he and Sheila head out of town to visit Sheila’s dad in the hospital.”

Chloe smiles faintly at the mention of Beca’s baby brother. She remembers the day Kyle was born.

_ Flashback _

_Chloe was tired. And really disappointed again._

_She was just getting home from yet another disastrous date – she had actually liked this guy until he started talking and she realized he was a sexist ass – and all she wanted to do was crawl into her bed, slip on her headphones and blast one of Beca’s mixes until she fell asleep._

_But a tiny brunette perched on her window seat with a deep, contemplative frown on her face had Chloe pausing in her doorway._

_Suddenly, Chloe forgot all about the tool she had dinner with as she laid eyes on Beca, a small smile unwittingly gracing her face._

_Her smile faltered slightly as she walked into her room and got no reaction from Beca. The redhead hadn’t been trying to be quiet or sneaky, and even though her bag made quite an audible thump as it fell from Chloe’s shoulder, Beca didn’t flinch._

_It took Chloe calling Beca’s name three times and a gentle touch to the shoulder to finally bring the brunette back to the same reality as Chloe – the latter’s smile fading altogether and being replaced by the barest hints of a frown because Beca looked… distraught._

_Chloe eased herself onto the seat next to Beca, her hand gently resting on her seatmate’s knee to help focus Beca’s attention._

_“Hey, what’s wrong?”_

_“Never one for beating around the bush, eh Red?”_

_“Always one for stalling, eh Becs?”_

_“Touché.”_

_“Well?”_

_Beca sighed, dropping her head to lean against the window while keeping her eyes tiredly on Chloe’s._

_“Sheila’s having a baby.”_

_“I know, Becs. I threw her the baby shower myself after you decided that the theme should be hard rock, specifically themed after the band KISS.”_

_Chloe smiled because Beca rolled her eyes at her, the stiffness in her shoulders easing slightly._

_“I mean soon. Like, any day now.”_

_Chloe merely blinked, not understanding where Beca was going with this._

_Heaving another deep sigh, Beca took her sweet time elaborating in that awkward endearing manner Chloe found amusing._

_“She’s having a baby and I’m-” Beca swallowed thickly before continuing, “I’m going to be this kid’s big sister.”_

_At Chloe’s growing smile, Beca hurried to finish._

_“I can’t do this, Chlo. I can’t be someone’s big sister; I would totally screw up the whole role model thing. I will completely corrupt-”_

_Chloe shut Beca up with a hand on her mouth, her fingers maneuvering until her thumb was momentarily brushing back and forth along Beca’s lower lip as her other fingers splayed along the brunette’s jaw. The intimate gesture caught both young women off-guard before Chloe pulled her hand away with a blush._

_“Shush, you. Where’s all this coming from?”_

_“In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t play well with others.”_

_“In case you haven’t noticed, you’re going to be 20 years older than this baby. Somehow, I doubt there will be a lot of times you’ll need to share your toys with them.”_

_Beca’s mouth moved, ready to form words, so Chloe lifted her hand again to silence Beca, this time making sure to keep all fingers and thumbs to herself._

_“No, shush. You listen to me, Rebeca Mitchell. You are a wonderful person and the sweetest softie I have ever met. You’ll babysit and spend your time singing to the baby, or playing it your mixes and generally planting a love for music in them. I can see it now, this baby is going to be a mini version of you, and it’ll drive your dad insane. This kid is going to be so lucky to have you as his or her big sister.”_

_A faint blush covered Beca’s face as she struggled to keep her lips from stretching into a smile under the redhead’s surprisingly stern look. Chloe didn’t know why, but she felt like she needed to keep talking._

_“You’ll probably be the one they call to bail them out of jail,” Beca watched as Chloe paused, smiling mischievously before continuing, “or you’ll call them when you need bail money.”_

_This brought a laugh out of Beca who pushed Chloe away gently. The redhead felt thrilled to see Beca’s tense shoulders relax, the cheeky grin settling back into the brunette’s navy blue eyes._

_Like most of her actions around Beca, Chloe didn’t really think about it as she slipped her fingers into messy brown locks, pushing Beca’s hair out of her face in an attempt to fix the unruly curls. Her Bella co-captain had a horrible habit of pulling at her hair and messing it up when she was stressed._

_“You’re going to be the best big sister, Becs. I know it.”_

_The two women locked eyes, and the younger of two was suddenly overcome with an urge to be closer to Chloe. The women found themselves leaning in towards each other when a phone rang between them._

_With a deep blush, like she suddenly realized what she was about to do, Beca looked at her phone, frowning as she saw her step-mother’s name on the screen._

_Chloe watched as Beca’s face drained of all color as she answered the phone, Sheila having gotten straight to the point with, “Your father’s out of town, and my water just broke.”_

_ End flashback _

Chloe had ended up driving a frantic Beca over to her father’s house, and then spent the next two hours telling both Beca and Sheila to breathe as she and Beca delivered the brunette’s baby brother right there in the Mitchells’ kitchen.

The image of a squeamish Beca holding Kyle for the first time is seared into Chloe’s memory forever. It was the first time Beca had allowed her tears to fall past her lower lashes, and the look of raw love in her eyes had given Chloe goose bumps. It had taken both the redhead and Sheila calling Beca’s name a few times to even snap the latter’s attention back to reality long enough for Beca to hand her newborn brother to his mother.

The ginger’s impromptu trip down memory lane is interrupted when she sees Beca rubbing at her eyes with reckless abandon, looking too much like Kyle in that moment that Chloe can’t help but giggle.

Beca must have been really tired because she didn’t even call Chloe out on the giggling. Instead, she got to her feet and almost face-planted on Chloe’s floor, the ginger hurriedly grabbing her arm to stop her from falling.

“Becs, you sure you’re okay? Maybe I should come with you, or at least drive you over there…”

“I’m fine, Red, I promise. Look, I’ll call you soon as I get to the house, how about that?”

Chloe knew that Beca had her mind made up and there was no changing it now. So she opted to simply nod her head and watch Beca go.

It hadn’t even been ten minutes when Beca’s phone went off as she was driving, the brunette answering to find Chloe on the other end.

“I don’t care what you say, you’re not feeling well and the idea of you driving in such a state is terrifying to me, so I’m calling to make sure you stay awake while you drive.”

“Jesus, Chlo-”

“No, Beca, don’t argue with me about this. Please.”

Even through her hazy mind, Beca hears the genuine fear and concern in Chloe’s voice, so she stops all her arguments and indulges the redhead instead.

“So how would you like to keep me awake?”

“Tell me a story. You went out and got a tattoo after Kyle’s birthday party; what’s that about?”

“Ah. That.”

“I haven’t gotten a good look at it yet, but it looked like a long line of text?”

“It is. God, you’ll totally think I’m a dork-”

“I already do.”

“-but it’s a quote from Harry Potter.”

After being met with silence, Beca decides to continue explaining before Chloe offers a smartass comment.

“I was four when the first book came out in 1998. Obviously, I couldn’t read yet, but I’ve always loved a good book. So Dad bought me the book, and he read it to me every night. Then the next book came out, and we repeated that cycle, and so on. Until the fifth book anyway before my parents’ divorce finalized and he moved out. Even then, he sent me the last two books in the mail as soon as they came out.”

There was still silence from Chloe’s end, but Beca imagines that the redhead’s got a loving smile on her face and an expectant look on her face, so she keeps telling her story.

“Anyway, after we read the third one, there’s this line by Dumbledore that stuck with both of us. Dad would paraphrase it and wish me goodnight using it. The quote itself goes,

_“For in dreams, we enter a world that is entirely our own. Let him swim in the deepest ocean or glide over the highest cloud.”_

And Dad would twist it up and tuck me in with, _“swim in the deepest ocean and glide over the highest cloud, my sweet, and I will be here when you come up for air or let your feet finally touch the ground again.”_

Beca finds herself smiling faintly as she remembers this. It’s only Chloe’s faint (she hopes Chloe’s voice is faint on purpose because otherwise it means her own ears are failing her) “That’s adorable” that brings her back to reality. Beca clears her throat before continuing.

“Anyway, earlier in the day – before anyone had arrived for Kyle’s party – a package was delivered. The sender address belonged to Mom, which was weird because the card wished Kyle a happy birthday. So Sheila opened it, and to everyone’s surprise, Mom had had all seven of my super worn out and well-read Harry Potter books packaged nicely and sent them over. There was a longer note addressed to Dad about how watching Dad and I bond over books and Harry Potter was always her favorite thing, and that he shouldn’t deny Sheila the pleasure, nor his son the bond.

After the party was all done and everyone had left, I was walking by Kyle’s room when I heard Dad in there, and I stopped. He was tucking Kyle in, and he used our quote.

Later that night, Dad sent me a goodnight text with our version of Dumbledore’s quote, and I decided right then that I was going to wake up early the next day and get the quote tattooed.”

Beca hadn’t noticed, but she had pulled into her father’s house some time ago without even noticing.

“Huh. I guess your plan worked, Red. I made it in one piece. Oh, shit- listen, I’ll call you later, I’m sorry I have to rush, but Dad’s on the porch waiting with Kyle. Bye!”

Chloe doesn’t hear from Beca for the rest of the night, but she makes sure to call Dr. Mitchell and run something by him first before it gets too late.

The next morning when Beca wakes up with someone – no, two someones, she notes groggily – in bed with her, the older redheaded one reading a big book with a spectacled boy on the cover to the toddler in her lap, she doesn’t question it.

Instead she admits defeat because Beca Mitchell is sick and needs someone to take care of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hear ye, hear ye.
> 
> Come one and come all, for lo and behold, I have joined the confusing and button filled world of tumblr.
> 
> Come find me @dishonoringthefamilycow, let's talk, bounce ideas off each other, and just be merry!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's too hot for Beca's liking (and it's not completely because of the heatwave they're going through) and she welcomes any distraction she can find...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one! I've got finals in roughly six hours, and my alarm is set for about two hours from now. So naturally, I started writing. 
> 
> I want to make two announcements: A) this story is rapidly approaching an end because I only have one more chapter in mind before the last one - which, by the way, is already written and finished - and in order for me to get next chapter out, I am still stuck on where to place a tattoo on Chloe's body and would greatly appreciate your help. So if you're reading this, and you like/love my story, please don't hesitate to drop me a comment.  
> B) if anyone would like me to maybe write another one of these with a specific tattoo or a specific kind of story other than the ones I've planned out, also drop me a comment before the story wraps up.
> 
> Thank you for your comments, follows, favorites, and kudos. Cheers to you all, you guys are the real MVPs! 
> 
> As always, anything related to the Percy Jackson series is owned by Rick Riordan and "Prayer to Persephone" belongs to Edna St. Vincent Millay.

It really shouldn’t surprise Beca anymore when she walks into the Bella house to find her weirdos in swimsuits. Living in a house full of women means she’s seen plenty of skin and scanty outfits; and it’s true, it doesn’t surprise her anymore – but it doesn’t always leave her comfortable either.

Especially when her eyes automatically seek out a head of red hair. And her eyes – still working of their own accord – trail along said redhead’s bikini-clad body as Chloe bends forward to pick something off the floor (Beca’s mind doesn’t particularly care what).

The brunette snaps out of it when she hears Stacie’s voice whining.

“Man, I wish someone would look at me like Beca looks at Chloe.”

The captain snaps her head over so fast everyone’s sure it must have hurt. The panic in her eyes doesn’t stop Cynthia Rose and Fat Amy from joining the conversation.

“With love in her eyes?”

“No, like a horny teenage boy.”

“Ah, yes. I’ve seen dingoes in heat looking more subtle than those two.”

Beca’s face looks redder than Chloe’s hair.

Chloe looks up at her with a teasing smirk and an incredibly lewd wink.

Beca’s a mess.

So the brunette demands – red-faced and spluttering – that the team run a bazillion laps around the house, and looks even more indignant when they all just flip her off on their way out of the house.

Chloe’s laughter has Beca turn around to face the only other person in the house with a helpless look on her face.

“Chlo, I wasn’t- they were- Stacie’s an idiot. I wasn’t looking at you like-”

 “Like a horny teenage boy? Stop it, Becs, of course you were.”

Chloe’s laughter is even more amused if it’s possible, her teasing smile glowing with that familiar flirtatious quirk that Beca’s come to expect from her _best friend_.

_Teasing and flirty banter is just part of the BFF dynamic, right? Right._

So Beca forces an eye roll even though deep down she knows that they’re all probably right – she just won’t admit defeat.

“Anyway. What’s with the swimwear? I mean, I know it’s really hot and the heat wave doesn’t help, but isn’t this a bit much?”

“In case you haven’t noticed the stifling heat _inside_ , let me draw your attention to the fact that the air conditioning broke this morning and it is now hell on earth.”

Beca finally feels the smothering heat around her after her own body temperature drops back to a reasonable degree.

On a good day, it always feels like she’s running a fever when she’s around Chloe. Now that the redhead is in a bikini, Beca feels like she’s visiting the surface of the sun.

“Alright, then where did they go? I swear, if any of them get arrested for public indecency again…”

Chloe waves Beca away with an eye roll. “That was one time, and Stacie’s promised to behave this time. Her “Hunter” isn’t up to any kind of added warmth at the moment.”

Beca waits a minute more with both her eyebrows raised expectantly before Chloe realizes she still hasn’t answered the younger woman.

“Oh, right. We’re commandeering the Trebles’ pool. Now hurry up and change so you don’t miss any of the fun.”

“Yeah, no thanks. I’ve got stuff I need to do, mixes to finish, papers to write—”

“You finished finals two days ago. Come on, Becs, you need to relax a little, get some sun. Bet the reason you’re even stuck on any mixes is because you’re so wound up all the time.”

Beca’s getting ready to wave Chloe off and rebuff her again before heading to her room when said woman grabs her hand and drags her upstairs – completely missing the case Beca’s carrying in her other hand.

“I’m not taking no for an answer, Beca. We’re going upstairs and putting you in a bikini.”

Beca ignores the way her heart feels like it has grown wings and is fluttering about her chest in an attempt to escape her ribcage.

Chloe leads Beca into her closet with her hands firmly on the brunette’s shoulders to bar any escape attempts. Once she’s sure Beca’s not going to bolt and she has all exit routes covered, Chloe settles on the bed and faces Beca, waiting.

Beca’s fidgeting and shifting her weight around a lot because Chloe’s looking at her expectantly.

“Uh, aren’t you at least going to look away?”

“Why? It’s not like I haven’t seen it all before.”

Beca can’t help it, but a big sigh leaks past her lips. She’s defeated and she knows it. So the younger Bella turns to her closet and proceeds to take off the layers of shirts she’s wearing, her back to Chloe.

The redhead is absently wondering how Beca manages to get through the day with so many pieces of clothes on when she notes something in the middle of her co-captain’s back.

Beca almost jumps through the ceiling when she feels Chloe’s fingers trailing lines on her back.

“Jesus, Chloe, you’re never going to understand what personal space is, huh?”

Chloe’s frowning as she keeps her eyes on Beca’s back, something clearly holding her attention firmly enough that she doesn’t notice the goose bumps her touch leaves along Beca’s skin.

Her voice is soft when she speaks next and Beca’s mind connects things together as she realizes what’s caught Chloe’s attention.

_Say to her, "My dear, my dear,_ _  
It is not so dreadful here."_

Chloe hasn’t even formed her question when Beca cuts her off with the beginning of a story – she’s used to it by now; when Chloe’s paying more attention than usual to her ink, she usually wants a story.

“It’s from a poem – _“Prayer to Persephone” –_ I read in high school.”

Beca didn’t turn around – being topless and all – but she felt Chloe move away from her and heard the faint noise of sheets ruffling as the redhead sat back on the bed. The brunette didn’t need to look to know Chloe’s face was sporting a light frown, her nose scrunched up in concentration as she waits for the rest of the details. So Beca starts rummaging in her closet – pretending to look for her bikini top that was right on top of everything, probably thanks to Chloe – in order to prolong their time in her room.

“You already know that my senior year was rough, with Nana being sick and all. It’s a miracle I even passed.”

Chloe murmurs an “Mhm” as she takes note of the case Beca brought up and dropped on her bed on their way in.

“Well, the only class I was doing exceptionally well in without much effort was obviously English. We were studying Greek mythology that semester, and how that aspect of Ancient Greek culture bled into the rest of the world millennia later.”

Chloe’s paying attention to Beca, but a small part of her mind is beyond curious, desperate to know what’s inside (even though the shape of the case is a dead giveaway).

“Our teacher – Miss Spencer – was new that year, and she was the best teacher I have ever had. She had such a passion for her class, her subject, even though she was – as a teacher – basically the most underappreciated person in the country, working in the shittiest environment imaginable. Like, seriously Chlo, we were the biggest bunch of brats you could imagine.”

Chloe smiles faintly, knowing that Beca was probably a surly teen – probably no different than what she’s like now at 22.

“But she walked into class with a smile that could match yours and poured everything into her work. She scattered bits and pieces of herself with every word she delivered.”

Beca pauses, smiling out of sight of Chloe. “She was kinda like you in that sense.”

The redhead tears her gaze from running her fingers along the latches on the case to smile bashfully at Beca’s back.

Clearing her throat, Beca powers on with her story.

“Anyway. She took a personal interest in each of her students, and my deal wasn’t exactly a secret. One day, I had ditched my French class and gone to the music room. It was probably not allowed, but I didn’t care; I needed to play. Music has always been a kind of stress relief for me, and with the situation being what it was at home with Nana, I was struggling with my instruments. I was desperate, and I hoped a change of scenery would help me.

I had just given up on the piano and was moving on to try the violin when she walked in. Apparently she heard music unlike anything that’s ever being played during music lessons and she got curious.

She asked permission and silently slipped into the room, asking me to play some more with a smile—” Beca pauses to laugh suddenly, throwing a smirk over her shoulder at Chloe. “After I protested, she told me she wasn’t going to leave until I played.”

Chloe laughed too, remembering the notorious shower incident she shared with Beca.

“Anyway. Eventually, I caved and played. I thought I was terrible because I _knew_ how good I was. She loved it. I ended up playing for her for a solid thirty minutes before the bell rang. I would have skipped the class again had it not been for the fact that it was _her_ class.

It became a daily routine after that; I’d find time to sneak into the music room, and she’d find a way to come listen to me play – and it helped. I mean, I still struggled sometimes with all of the stress, but it was better than before. Sometimes, she’d get me to talk about things and it would help loosen me up some more. We talked about all kinds of stuff, from music and family relations, to school gossip and my immensely nerdy love for all things Greek mythology-”

Chloe smirks, unable to hold back her teasing, “Like Percy Jackson?”

“Hey, don’t even go there. I’m still really mad about what Uncle Rick did to Percabeth in Mark of Athena and House of Hades.”

Chloe laughs outright this time, Beca waiting until she’s silent again before continuing.

“So, yeah. She helped me get through the year, and inspired me to keep playing even when all I wanted to do was stop.”

Chloe sobers up after a moment because she distinctly remembers Beca telling her she stopped playing after her Nana passed away. She’s caught off-guard by Beca’s soft voice, the brunette turning to face her, fully dressed in a black bikini top and board shorts. The redhead cocks her head to the side, idly wondering to herself how she didn’t notice Beca getting changed.

“Miss Spencer had an accident a couple of months before we graduated, they said it was a drunk driver. The substitute they got us was nothing like her, and the few ounces of fight I had left in me were sucked right out because it felt like anyone I got close to that year left me in the most permanent way possible.”

Chloe’s heart constricted at the sight of Beca’s immense sadness. Nobody deserved what Beca had gone through in such a short span of time. The redhead turned to face the other Bella as she plopped down on the bed with a heavy sigh, Chloe’s hand lifting to squeeze Beca’s shoulder in support before dropping down.

“The fire was gone, but I still played. I couldn’t bring myself to stop altogether, like I would disappoint her. I went to Joshua the weekend after her accident was announced and I got this tattooed on my back. It’s the last two lines from one of her favorite poems that we discussed one time as I played the violin for her.”

They’re silent for a while after Beca stops speaking, and Chloe’s hesitant to bring up the case sitting inches from their hands. The way the ginger’s hands twitch must give her away because Beca turns to glance at it briefly before addressing Chloe.

“I asked Mom to ship it out to me. Ever since I played the piano for you, this has been on my mind. I was going to sneak out tonight after everyone was asleep and take it on a test run, see if I’ve still got it. I finally feel ready to do this again.”

Chloe watches, mesmerized, as Beca unhooks the latches and lifts the lid to reveal a gorgeous white violin with a black paisley pattern, clearly custom-made.

The brunette smiles wistfully, her fingers running along the instrument’s strings and delicately eliciting a faint tune.

“Mom had this made for me when I was four.” Beca smiles smugly at Chloe’s surprised look. “Yes, Red, I said four. I was _that_ good, that soon.”

“You do realize that you’re not getting out of playing for me, right?”

Beca just rolls her eyes, closing the lid again before getting up to leave.

Chloe’s still seated on the bed, staring at the closed case with a thoughtful look on her face, so Beca takes a minute to just look – no, she tells herself, she wants to _admire_ Chloe – while the ginger’s attention is elsewhere.

Beca’s too lost in her own thoughts that she doesn’t immediately notice that the redhead’s looking up at her until Chloe’s standing up in the minimal space between the brunette and the bed, the cheeky smirk on her lips letting Beca know she’s been caught staring again.

“Like what you see, Becs?”

The brunette mentally refuses to lose at this game again, and rises to the challenge. She leans in dangerously close to the ginger, internally giving herself a pat on the back for making Chloe’s breath catch in her throat. Beca maintains eye contact with Chloe’s slightly dilated baby blues as she leans in further, her hand moving past the redhead and grabbing something just as she leans in and husks something in Chloe’s ear.

“I’ve seen better.”

Chloe’s left sputtering as Beca steps back with a triumphant smirk, strutting away and out of the door. Chloe hears the other Bella’s laughter flow up the stairs as she hurriedly follows, a comeback of “You wish, Mitchell!” leaving her lips a few minutes too late.

It’s much later in the night when Chloe hears the creak of Beca’s door and gets up to follow.

She sits silently on the steps of the porch next to Beca, keeping her eyes straight ahead as Beca plays what she will later find out to be a song called _Sari Gelin_.

The pair stay out there until the wee hours of the dawn with only Beca’s soft tunes to keep them company as they watch the sunrise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hear ye, hear ye.
> 
> Come one and come all, for lo and behold, I have joined the confusing and button filled world of tumblr.
> 
> Come find me @dishonoringthefamilycow, let's talk, bounce ideas off each other, and just be merry!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe's out of town, and it leaves Beca with the blues...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I'm sorry this one took so long; I've had some stuff to deal with in university, lots of life-changing decisions to make and stuff, so my muse abandoned me for a while. I tried something a little different from the other chapters this time, and I must confess, I'm not sure I like this chapter very much, but I've looked at it a lot and I can't decide how else to tweak it. 
> 
> A few things: this was supposed to be the chapter before the last, but I've recently realized that Brittany Snow does have another tattoo besides the ladybug on her wrist. This leaves me - and you! - with some decisions to make. I'd like to know if you guys would want me to include that tattoo in the series and have that be the next chapter, or if you'd rather we just get to the last chapter next? Please note that the last chapter is already completed, and only needs a few minor adjustments.
> 
> Also, if anyone has any requests to make for this series, whether for a specific tattoo or a specific kind of story, please don't hesitate to leave me a comment or a PM. The closer we get to the end of the series, the less time you'll have to ask.
> 
> Thank you, as always, to all of you who follow, favorite, review, and drop me kudos. Your kindness is the reason I keep doing this. 
> 
> Lengthy A/N over, please read on and enjoy!

The door shuts with a resounding bang as Beca runs through it. The brunette needs a minute though, doubling over with a hand clutching the table they keep by the door for keys and such as she pants.

“You’d think three years of cardio would have left Beca in better shape than this.”

The woman in question glares at Emily, but due to her out-of-breath state, not even the legacy finds her intimidating.

“Nah, Beca doesn’t actually do the cardio. Hasn’t since Aubrey left and nobody’s been around to force her. She just inflicts it on the rest of us.”

Beca barely manages an eye roll at Stacie before she straightens and opens her mouth to ask something only to be cut off by Fat Amy as the Australian walks by on her way to the kitchen.

“She’s still waiting upstairs.”

Amy’s not even done with her statement when Beca bolts for the stairs, not stopping until she’s doubled over again and barely on her feet in Chloe’s doorway.

“Finally! I’ve packed and repacked and checked everything twice. There wasn’t much else for me to do to stall until you got here. I need to head to the airport, like, right now, Beca.”

Beca uses the doorframe to stand up a little, her eyes squinting a little as she wheezes out a response.

“Sorry, Red… late… Station… Jesse…”

The ginger blinks, seemingly just realizing that Beca looks ready to drop.

“Dude, are you okay? Come here, sit down. I’m already late, I can’t deal with you dying on me too.”

Beca shuffles in and drops on the bed without care, throwing a sarcastic smile up at the redhead hovering worriedly over her.

“Thanks, Chlo. I run the whole way here to catch you before you leave and you repay me by saying mean things to me. Why do you wound me so?”

Chloe, for her part, rolls her eyes as she mutters something about Beca being a drama queen before she moves back towards the suitcase she’s packed, looking over it one last time.

“Well, this ‘drama queen’ scored Jesse’s car so I can take you to the airport. But if you’re going to be so ungrateful about it, then I can always-”

“No! God, are you kidding? I get a little more time with you. Now get up so we can go before I miss my flight.”

So Beca grabs Chloe’s suitcase and the pair head to the car. The brunette drives, letting her guard down as she sings along to Taylor Swift on the radio because she’s with Chloe and it’s impossible not to smile and goof off and act like a total dork when Chloe’s looking at you with toothy grins and shining eyes.

Too soon, Beca finds herself trapped in the ginger’s arms for what Chloe refers to as “the mother of all hugs,” and she has to remind Chloe that she’s only going away for a week and plead with the redhead to let her go because she can’t breathe and her vision is going black at the edges from the lack of oxygen.

Beca’s drive back to the Bella house is significantly quieter.

The Bella captain won’t admit it, but she stays up later than usual that night, claiming that she’s working on a tricky mix, when in reality she’s hoping to hear something from Chloe who’s promised to let her know as soon as she arrives at her destination.

She’s jolted awake sometime after 2 a.m. when her phone buzzes by her head and she fumbles for it in the dark. Wiping the faint trail of drool from her chin, Beca curses like a sailor at the brightness of her phone as she reads Chloe’s somewhat lengthy text message.

**_“Sorry it’s so late! Got swept into family gatherings. First time I’ve been alone all day. I promise to send texts/emails every day. Oh, Paddy said to say hi! He’d LOVE to meet you, Becs! Now go back to bed or the Bellas will kill me for being the reason you’re a little Gremlin tomorrow. Love you! xxxx”_ **

(As far as the brunette’s concerned though, just because she’s heard from Chloe is no reason for Beca to not give the Bellas a hard time in the morning. She keeps that in mind as she clears a path to the coffee machine with the sheer power of her scowl – secretly relishing in the way Legacy trips over her own feet to get out of the way. It takes her two cups of black coffee before Beca feels bad about it and silently makes a note to herself to be a lot nicer to Emily for the rest of the day.)

Beca’s day just manages to get more hectic as the seconds tick by. Soon enough she’s so occupied at her internship, the radio station after that, and keeping the Bellas in check that she barely has time to use the bathroom. But now it’s dark, and Fat Amy’s out of the room – probably doing obscene things with Bumper – and she’s alone for the first time all day when the quiet actually sets in and she realizes that it’s been following her all day; the silence of not having Chloe around is deafening as it blankets her.

Beca’s shoulders drop even further because she’s just so _tired_ and she needs today to end and for it to be next week already so she can be at the airport picking Chloe up again.

But it’s not next week – it’s not even tomorrow – and she has more work to do, so she drops ungracefully onto her bed, mindlessly plugging her phone – which has been dead for hours – into the charger as she boots up her laptop.

She’s momentarily distracted by some software update for her precious mixing apps that she doesn’t pay much attention as her fingers go on auto-pilot and swipe at her phone, sparing the barest of glances as she opens someone’s text. Eventually though, a flash of red catches her eye and she’s pushing her laptop to the side altogether, smiling softly as she looks at the picture Chloe’s sent her.

The redhead is beaming into the camera, her blue eyes shining so bright they rival the ocean water behind her. The brunette smiles softly as she pictures, with startling and unparalleled clarity, Chloe’s process as she braids her bangs to the side while opting to let her hair down, her beach waves catching in the sun just enough to make the redhead’s hair look like a living _breathing_ fire that Beca would gladly run her fingers through, burn risks be damned.

Beca lets her eyes roam a little longer – mindful not to linger too long on _Chloe_ _in a bikini_ – her heart constricting a little at the caption the redhead attached to the photo.

**Wish you were here with me, Becs. xxxx.**

Eventually, Beca admits defeat and starts doing actual work for a number of hours she doesn’t even bother to keep track off. So it comes as a surprise when she gets a notification that she’s got an email from Chloe at – after a lot of tired blinking and squinting at her screen to focus her eyes – 3:30 am.

A part of Beca – a big part of her – is super pleased to hear more from Chloe, but a tiny voice in the back of her mind is nagging at her that something’s wrong. She chooses to ignore that voice when she opens the email and finds that Chloe’s attached some more pictures to the email, along with the nicely sized body of text.

Opting to open the pictures first, the brunette smiles at the sight of Chloe, who has her head thrown back in a clear giggle (which Beca can practically hear in her head as if Chloe’s sitting across from her, but whatever) and her arms spread out to her sides, posing in front of the statue of Mickey Mouse and Walt Disney. The picture’s caption reads, **I got you Minnie Mouse ears so we can match, Tiny Maus ;)**

The brunette rolls her eyes, knowing she’ll never live her encounters with the Kommissar down.

(She also makes a mental note to secretly print this photo of Chloe and discreetly add it to the frames of the girls’ pictures spread around the house. And maybe get a private copy for herself.)

The next picture warmed Beca’s heart immensely; the sight of Chloe with her arms wrapped tightly around an older man – presumably the redhead’s beloved Paddy – made Beca feel guilty for ever wishing the ginger had chosen against going on this family retreat. She racks her mind, but Beca can’t seem to recall a moment in which she’s seen Chloe so unabashedly joyful, and looking downright like a little girl. This photo is captioned, **Paddy can’t wait to meet you! He totes loves you already.**

The next few photos showed Chloe with a host of people at some bar or club; Beca assumes they’re all Chloe’s cousins or brother because she’s not entirely comfortable with how this one dude keeps popping up in all of the photos with a hand around Chloe, or planting a kiss on her cheek, or just general touchy-feely gestures that leave the brunette feeling itchy. It doesn’t help that the redhead’s only captioned the first photo in the series and it says nothing about who anyone is, just a simple, **Still nothing like a Bellas party**.

The brunette idly wonders if this email is the result of a wild night on the town, and Chloe’s just ‘drunk dialing’, so to speak.

**_“Hey, Becs!!! I miss you soooooooo much, and it’s actually kinda ridiculous because I’ve only been away for, like, a day._ **

**_I am so bringing you here with me as soon as possible. I mean, you’d totes hate it with all the sand and the sun and the fresh air. Not to mention the people; there are so many people all over, Becs, and they’re all so happy. All. The. Time. Imagine a city just full of me! You would absolutely lose your shit here, it’ll be hilarious.”_ **

The brunette rolls her eyes affectionately, thinking to herself that it wouldn’t be as bad as Chloe seems to think if Beca were in a city inhabited by only Chloe.

**_“It’s pretty overwhelming to be with my relatives all at once again; I haven’t been with them in ages, I forgot how many I had! Or how loud and nosy they are… barely 24 hours and all they wanna talk about is how I’m still single. I swear, if my aunt tells me about “this really nice guy” she knows one more time, Becs, I’m going to join a convent! They just can’t seem to grasp the idea that I’m just waiting for the right someone…”_ **

Beca swears she sees her heart casually walk out of her feet, whistling some show tune as it struts away from her.

Who’s this “right someone”?

**_“Anyway, none of that matters. What does matter is Paddy. God, Becs, I’ve missed him so much! Remind me again why it’s taken me this long to come out and see him? I’ve spent the whole day with him; he took me to the beach and made sandcastles with me, just like when I was a kid and was being left out of all the games because I was the youngest. He hasn’t stopped calling me Little Mermaid since I arrived. It’s the best feeling ever._ **

**_We went to Disney World too! Ohmigod, Becs, Paddy’s like the biggest big kid I’ve ever known! He had the whole layout memorized and was constantly rushing me to certain spots so we could meet all the characters. We bought balloons, and had all the snacks we could find in the park, and went on as many rides as possible without straining him._ **

**_Later, we went to this bar and spent the rest of the night drinking and laughing until he got too tired to keep going. We spent the time there checking out girls and trying out cheesy pick-up lines. He bet me that he could score more phone numbers than I could, and like a sucker I agreed to his bet. I’m ashamed to say that he did get more girls’ phone numbers than I did.”_ **

Beca has to pause after reading and rereading this a few times. She’s not sure what she finds more surprising; the fact that Chloe was flirting with other _girls_ , or the fact that she wasn’t very successful about it.

(Beca ignores the part of her that is throwing a party because Chloe failed in her attempts to pick up girls. It’s the same part of her that flared up with searing jealousy the first time she read the sentence. She ignores that too.)

She shakes her head and keeps reading.

**_“He told me all about how he met my grandma too! It’s the cutest story ever, Becs, remind me to tell it to you when I get home._ **

**_I got home not too long ago and found him in the kitchen all alone. So obviously I pulled a stool next to him after finding the ice cream and cookies stash, along with glasses of milk. We spent the past hour or so just talking._ **

**_It’s been one of the best days of my life.”_ **

Beca smiles fondly, picturing the old man from the picture and Chloe running around and goofing off with kids while other adults gawked in envy. She could see it now; where Chloe had gotten her love of life and personality from. It becomes clear to Beca that Paddy is a force to be reckoned with in Chloe’s life, and obviously one hell of a guy to know.

**_“I’ve told him all about you, y’know. How we met at the activities fair, you with all of your snark and menacing earspike, me all innocent and sweet as I try to save my Bellas. Obviously I had to tell him about your blatant lie that you couldn’t sing, which then led to telling him all about The Incident and us singing in the shower. Told him all about your clashes with Bree, your awkwardness, how tiny you are._ **

**_How you’ve led us to victory and greater heights ever since we met. That you’re a genius musician who’s totes going to take Los Angeles by storm and turn it on its axis once you make it out there. He’s even listened to your music and he agrees; you’re brilliant, Becs.”_ **

Beca’s breathing catches and she has to reread things a few times to make sure it’s not all just a dream. Inexplicably, she feels a blush covering her cheeks and neck, knowing that Chloe’s been singing her praises to someone who is probably the most important person in the redhead’s life makes Beca feel lightheaded and bashful, both honored and humbled that Chloe thinks so highly of her.

**_“I’m sorry, I don’t know what just got into me; I let my sap show, and I know how uncomfortable that makes you feel. I guess it’s just the euphoria of today leaking through coupled with how late it is._ **

**_What about you? Are you alright, the Bellas? Treating Legacy okay? Don’t be too mean and Gremlin-like to her, okay? She’s Baby Bella. I hope I don’t actually wake you up with this. Actually, if you’re still awake, please go to bed. I know today’s one of your busier day and you’re probably so tired you needed to squint at the screen to tell the time. Sleep before you mix your way into an early grave, Becs._ **

**_I need to get some sleep, big plans tomorrow and all, but I’ll text and email like today. Tell the girls I said hi and that I miss them._ **

**_Missing you the most,_ **

**_Chloe.”_ **

Beca types out a quick reply, nothing fancy or lengthy, a simple, **_“I’m glad you’re having fun, Chlo. You deserve to relax a little. Paddy seems like a genuine blast, and I can’t wait to meet the dude myself. I miss you too, Red. Stay safe.”_**

The brunette shuts everything off, settling into bed with a content smile on her face and her mind mostly occupied with visions of red and tints of blue, but there’s still something about all of this that’s bothering Beca, the brunette straining to ignore the little voice that’s telling her to be ready.

Naturally, her brain was obnoxiously right because Beca didn’t hear anything from Chloe for the rest of the week. At first, she convinced herself that it was probably because Chloe was having too much fun and didn’t have a lot of time to herself to sit down and send Beca a lengthy email. But her logic won out because she knows that no matter how busy Chloe gets, the redhead will always have time to shoot her a quick text.

Sadly, Beca’s week continues to get busier, not leaving her with enough time to call Chloe as many times as she’d like, so – thankfully – before she knows it, the week has come to an end, and the brunette finds herself in the Bella house’s doorway, panting as she tries to catch her breath because she’s late again. She’s missed picking Chloe up from the airport, but that’s fine because the brunette had received a text from Aubrey telling her that the blonde would pick Chloe up.

As the oxygen finally remembers how to come and go inside her body, Beca becomes sharply aware of some things:

  1.               There is no welcome committee to mock her at the door.
  2.               No redheads have trapped her in a massive bear hug that leads to Beca being lifted a few inches off the ground.
  3.               The house is quiet. Too quiet.



Short, shaky legs carry Beca into the living room where her blood runs cold because the girls, including Aubrey, are huddled up together and looking devastated – Emily’s even crying, much to Beca’s increasing terror – and no redhead in sight. The brunette strides into the room and draws Aubrey’s attention to her with a sharply hissed out, “Hey!”

As if Beca wasn’t scared enough, Aubrey adds to her worries by referring to her by her name, and not some teasing nickname designed to take a jab at her height.

“Beca, it’s Chloe. She’s upstairs-”

The blonde never finishes her sentence because Beca’s already rushing up the stairs, instinctively turning in the direction of her own bedroom.

Her heart seizes at the sight of the redhead curled up in her bed, a big wet patch forming on Beca’s pillow right where Chloe’s cheek meets the pillowcase. The brunette drops her stuff by the door without care as she steps inside the room, noting how small Chloe looks. Her movements draw Chloe’s attention towards her and Beca’s heart breaks as she watches Chloe’s already shaking body shrink further into her bed and shake even more violently, the redhead’s sobs coming out harder and more broken.

Beca doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even need to ask why Chloe is in such a state. There really is no need because she’s been in Chloe’s shoes four years ago when she lost her Nana. She knows how empty words can be in such a time, and she’s never been very good at them, so she opts for actions instead. The redhead likes actions better anyway.

Ever so gently, Beca pulls the covers back, slipping under them and into her own bed. Her arms have barely opened to go around Chloe when the redhead’s arms find Beca’s waist and pull her closer, Chloe scooting down the bed and burying her face in Beca’s middle as her sobs come more freely, her tears hot as they soak through Beca’s shirt and make contact straight with the younger woman’s skin.

Beca’s hands find homes in the redhead’s hair, fingers scratching and massaging Chloe’s scalp soothingly, her lips whispering soft, sweet nothings and gentle prayers into the top of Chloe’s head, occasionally planting kisses in between her words.

The brunette’s arms tighten around Chloe whenever she feels the redhead’s sobs wrack her body violently, like a personal natural disaster that leaves only casualties in its wake.

They stay like that even long after Chloe’s cried herself into a fitful sleep full of sad whimpers and silent tears. Beca spends the whole night awake, keeping vigil over Chloe as the ginger sleeps and soothing her with fingers softly brushing through red hair whenever her dreams prove to be too painful.

In the morning, Chloe finally lifts her swollen and red eyes to meet Beca’s, whose heart breaks because there’s so much pain in Chloe’s baby blues it’s a wonder Chloe’s still breathing. Beca knows she wouldn’t be.

Chloe’s eyes are filling with tears again, and Beca just can’t stand it so she plants a lingering kiss on the redhead’s forehead, closing her eyes as she hears Chloe’s hoarse, tear-laden voice.

“He was saying goodbye, Beca. They said something about a heart condition that he kept all to himself and he-” Chloe’s voice breaks again, shattering to a bazillion tiny pieces like her soul, the shards of which embed in Beca’s skin.

“Why’d he have to leave me like that, Beca? Why?”

They go back to lying there after that, Chloe’s fragile and childlike voice searing itself unpleasantly into Beca’s memory as she just holds a sobbing Chloe.

Hours later, when Beca’s jolted awake after losing her battle with exhaustion, she finds her bed empty and panics. Thankfully though, Chloe emerges from the bathroom soon after, looking like she took a stroll down the darker parts of hell.

Beca thinks she’ll never meet another woman as beautiful as Chloe.

Silently, Chloe pulls Beca out of bed and the two leave the house.

For now, Beca’s content with sitting in a chair next to Chloe and holding her hand, pressing soft and sporadic kisses along the back of the redhead’s hand as she lies back with her shirt lifted up at the hip, a tattoo artist inking a simple but incredibly meaningful four-leaved clover into Chloe’s flesh.

Days later, when Chloe’s only crying in bursts, she’ll tell Beca the story about how the four-leaved clover had always been Paddy’s good luck charm – even though it’s totally cliché – because he found one right before he walked into a bar and met her grandmother, and he found one for each one of his kids and grandkids before they were born, and especially how he found two before Chloe was born.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hear ye, hear ye.
> 
> Come one and come all, for lo and behold, I have joined the confusing and button filled world of tumblr.
> 
> Come find me @dishonoringthefamilycow, let's talk, bounce ideas off each other, and just be merry!


	8. Fearless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe's dragged Beca to her 5-year-high-school-reunion...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! I'm sorry this took so long; I've just not been able to settle on an idea (my two other ideas were Scrabble Nights and Las Vegas, which I may still write if there's enough prodding) and then when I did pick something, I couldn't write it at all. But I did it and here we are.
> 
> A few things first!  
> 1) I realize that one theme got repeated - specifically both Beca and Chloe losing the grandparent they were really close to - and I would like kinda apologize for that; I didn't mean for angst to overtake this series. My own grandfather passed away a year ago this past February, and while we weren't as close as either Beca and Chloe were with their grandparents, I still have my moments of crippling sadness when I think of him. I guess it all seeped into the writing without my intending for it to. I hope the new chapter makes up for the previously angsty ones.  
> 2) I also realize that I haven't taken the time to thank all who review personally, and that's kinda shitty of me, so I'm truly sorry. I'm still relatively new to this publishing stuff so I'm still fuzzy on the proper protocol. But I swear I take note of all of your reviews and cherish them, so keep 'em coming!  
> 3) This will definitely be the chapter before the last one unless someone leaves me a prompt or request in the comments.
> 
> And just to be clear, this series was never following any kind of chronological order so don't get confused because this chapter falls in Beca's sophomore year, and Chloe's second attempt at senior year.
> 
> Special shoutout to my wonderful beta for putting up with me the way she does - you're an absolute "diamond"!  
> Thank you for your constant support with the reviews, follows/favorites, and kudos! You are amazeballs!
> 
> End of really long A/N! Read on and enjoy!
> 
> The Proclaimers own and perform "500 Miles (I Gonna Be)" while David Guetta ft. Sia own Chloe's lady jam.

****

There are many things in this world that Beca Mitchell hates.

Sand, for example, makes her really uncomfortable and itchy. She cringes at the thought of finding it covering everything she touches as she shifts around in her seat, intent on getting it in as few places as possible. She also vaguely wonders how she spent her whole life in her body without realizing how many crevices the human anatomy had that sand could get stuck in.

Mass quantities of people are a huge turn off too. Humans have vocal chords and they use them, much to Beca’s annoyance, to talk to her. Even worse, they have _opinions_ about things – like Beca’s appearance and style – that they offer the brunette with no regards as to whether she wants them or not. Thankfully though, the Bellas’ captain has mastered the art of the snark, and perfected her “you are all peasants” condescending eyebrow quirk which she firmly attaches to a deviously sarcastic smile, and the combination of all her aforementioned talents successfully keep nosy people away (she’s not even sorry about biting that one woman that actually commented _and_ **_touched_** her earspike. Beca’s actually very proud of herself for that one.)

(Don’t even get her started on children because she firmly believes that kids possess a more concentrated amount of peopleness in them due to their minimal surface area. It’s all very scientific.)

(She will also never admit out loud that Chloe’s managed to convince her that babies are precious and must be protected at all costs. The redhead somehow made babies sound exactly like the One Ring of Power and that made Beca okay – and mildly curious – about babies.)

Sun and sporting events are also things she actively tries to avoid because she will never understand why people will willingly put themselves through such laborious activities that result in heat and sweat and bad odor when they can enjoy the great indoors with its artificial air and synthetic light.

Yet here she is, on a beach in Tampa, Florida, surrounded by sand, sun, sporting events, and _people._

Thanks to a pair of sparkling eyes that shine bluer than the water and waves that roll lazily along the sand, Beca finds herself at a high school reunion that isn’t even her own and trying to stay under the shade of umbrella Chloe stuck in the sand to claim the spot as theirs, rotating every hour or so to follow the movement of the sun.

She’s grumbling to herself because _who has their high school reunion at the damn beach_ and _I’ve only known Chloe for a year how am I so wrapped around her finger like this_ when the volleyball game catches her eyes. More importantly, _someone_ at the volleyball game catches her eyes.

Beca forgets all about the notes she’s making on her phone for mixes and set lists as she watches Chloe, donning aviator glasses and a lime green bikini that leaves Beca’s brain in puddles, take a big gulp from her beer before handing her red Solo cup over to someone before jumping in and joining the new game.

The brunette can’t help the soft, small smile that develops on her face because Chloe’s throwing her head back to laugh every so often, the few red beach waves that were left out of Chloe’s messy ponytail blowing in the breeze and bouncing around her face like living flames. Beca’s even pleasantly surprised to find out that Chloe’s actually really good at volleyball. She always pegged the redhead as the cheerleader type.

Beca’s starting to slowly inch out from under her umbrella so she can get closer to watch (cheer on) Chloe when she catches the redhead’s name in the conversation from the umbrella next to hers.

She remembers Chloe leaning in close (like, _really_ close. Beca’s still wondering how it looked to others if anyone was watching) and informing her that the girls that were setting up next to them weren’t Chloe’s biggest fans in high school and were probably sitting this close so they it’d be easier to gossip. Beca had wanted to give the two girls – who were already blatantly watching them and whispering not so subtly – a piece of her mind but Chloe had held her back, casually dismissing the whole thing and telling the brunette to ignore it before moving away to grab them some “jiggle juice.”

So the captain tries to be subtle and pretend that she’s readjusting herself as casually as possible while trying to hear what the two girls next to her were saying.

“… Ohmigod did you hear that she’s totally repeating her senior year in college? Honestly, I’m surprised she even got as far as she did.”

Beca feels her blood boil. How dare these two? They don’t know Chloe. They don’t know all that she went through as a senior. With the Bellas and the competition and especially with Aubrey, not to mention her nodes – she had surgery for God’s sake! Senior year wasn’t kind to Chloe and Beca was going to smack down anyone that had something to say about her best friend. The captain’s mentally lining up her insults in the correct order they need to fire out of her mouth when the two idiots speak again, so she pauses and listens, hoping for more ammo to fuel her hate fire.

“And did you see the alt girl she brought with her? All those tattoos and that earspike? And who wears such dark eye make-up during the day? I told you she was absolutely into screwing girls back in high school. I bet that rumor about her and those three girls on the swim team from junior year is totally true.”

She’s really seething now and has completely moved from her spot and is rising to all of her 5 feet 2 inches height and starting to turn because _nobody_ messes with her Bellas when someone crashes into her side, Chloe’s breathy giggle filling her ear and seeping into her bones like a painkiller that instantly fixes everything as she stumbles to keep them both upright.

(She reluctantly admits to herself that she’s feeling extra protective over Chloe and her reputation for reasons beyond the Bella sisterhood.)

They barely have their balance when Chloe yanks Beca away, slightly lifting Beca off the ground as the redhead spins them towards a group of people standing by the volleyball net, ignoring Beca’s indignant squeak, and speaking in a rapid fire succession Beca associates with excitement.

“Come on, Becs! You _need_ to meet some of my friends. And get a tan! You know the sun won’t actually set you on fire, right?”

Beca simply rolls her eyes and lets herself be dragged across the sand before crashing into the redhead’s back because Chloe’s suddenly stopped in front of her and has turned around to pull Beca close. As she stumbles, Beca’s vaguely reminded of Aca-Initiation Night when this same redhead pulled her this close then too before whispering, much like she does now.

“I saw you get up and turn to them so I came over to calm you down before violence broke out. Blood’s really hard to clean, Becs.”

The brunette smirks a little before sobering up and telling Chloe what she’d heard. Much to Beca’s annoyance, Chloe just rolled her eyes and told Beca to forget it because nothing they say matters.

“But it does matter, Chlo! They can’t go around saying shit like that about you-”

“Drop it, Beca. Please.”

Beca’s never seen this look in Chloe’s eyes before. The redhead’s bright baby blues look clouded and guarded, and Beca swears she sees walls she usually only sees in her own reflection. So she’s desperate to see the smile back and needs the clouds to clear from the ginger’s eyes because the sun that shines from those crystal orbs is the only sun that Beca needs in her life.

So obviously the only thing Beca can think up to do is ask what the rumor about the girls on the swim team was in the most awkward way her tiny frame can muster. She’s thankful for her social ineptness because she’s rewarded with a cheeky smirk and a lewd wink from Chloe.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Becs.”

Oh boy, does she ever. Especially since the group Chloe’s turned and is dragging her towards consists of three girls that look like they swim quite often and – to Beca’s mild annoyance (read: jealousy) – more than a few guys. It doesn’t help when Chloe slips her hand out of Beca’s and sidles alongside a tall, dark, and (Beca grudgingly admits) handsome guy with a ridiculous boyishly charming smile that reminds Beca of Jesse.

She’s scowling without really realizing it as she watches the young man bring Chloe closer against his side with an arm lazily dropping onto her shoulder, the ginger not helping any by wrapping her arms around the dude’s waist. The brunette is distracted enough to totally miss the rapid introduction Chloe performs and finds herself staring blankly at everyone, smirking a little when her eyes land on Chloe’s exasperated expression.

“Honestly, Beca, can’t you get out of your own head for two seconds? Geez, you’ve got the attention span of a toddler-”

“I swear to God, Beale, if you take a crack at my height right now, we’re going to have a serious smack down on this nice _blood-free_ beach.”

The ginger just rolls her eyes as the other people they’re standing with chuckle lightly, Tall, Dark, and Handsome speaking up before Chloe can.

“Looks like you really are as intimidating as you look from afar, Earspike. I’m Scott, I was the jock dating the hottest girl in school-”

Beca can’t help it, she smirks and snarks. It’s just her default setting.

“Let me guess, she was a cheerleader too?”

She’s not even surprised when Chloe smirks back at her.

“Excuse you, I was the head cheerleader, thank you.”

“I knew it. Sick volleyball moves, by the way, Red.”

All Beca gets for her trouble is another smirk and a wink that makes her stomach jump. She decides to look at Scott again because that’s the safest option right now.

“That’s Jackson – he was the guitarist in a band that was dating his rocking lead singer-”

The brunette raises a brow when Chloe giggles a little and shines a flirty smile at Jackson who just smiles goofily back.

“Seriously, Chlo?”

“I like music and bad boys, Becs. Are you really surprised?”

Beca rolls her eyes again and motions for Scott to continue.

“This is Cam, but feel free to call him Cameron if he bothers you. Ron if he’s being super annoying.”

Beca raises an expectant brow at Chloe, smirking a little.

“We met on the yearbook committee.”

“Uh-huh. Go on, Scott.”

“These two are Seth and Sebastian – the twins.”

Beca raises both eyebrows this time as Chloe shrugs.

“I was adventurous.”

The group laughs, Scott pointing at the girls next with a cheeky smirk.

“They’re living proof of that- meet Natalie, Paige, and Finley, cheerleaders, misfits, and Warrior Princesses.”

Beca smirks, liking these girls by description alone.

“Where you on the swim team by any chance?”

Beca’s curiosity is practically eating her up because the group just chuckles and exchanges mysterious smirks.

“Well, I’m Beca. Obviously.”

“She’s my college, musically-inclined badass.”

Beca’s sure the blush spreading on her face isn’t helping convince anyone that she’s a badass.

Jackson, thankfully, bails her out with a smile.

“Oh, yeah. Chloe can’t stop gushing about your genius mixes. Maybe you can save us from this crap they’re playing?”

Beca hasn’t even formed an answer when she feels two strong arms grab her and start gently ushering her towards the DJ’s booth, her eyes widening in alarm as she searches for Chloe.

The beaming ginger nodding her head exuberantly does not help her panic.

“Guys, no- wait, please stop. I don’t even have any of my mixes-”

“Oh, that’s not a problem, Becs, I’ve got them all on my iPod. You’re totes going to bring down the house.”

The brunette goes limp in Seth and Sebastian’s arms hoping to slow them down a little as she silently plots Chloe’s murder in her mind.

Before she knows it, an announcement is being broadcasted and “DJ Earspike” is being introduced to a roar of clapping and hollering drunk young adults, while the current DJ is being pushed off the stage unceremoniously and she’s slotted into his place. She tries to convey her apology to the dude but he just stumbles and gets to his feet, joining the loud wave of screaming people, his inebriated state a clear explanation as to why the music has sucked so far.

So Beca makes an awkward introduction herself as her hands shakily set up what she needs, sparing a glare at Chloe as the ginger bounces up next to her to hand her iPod over. The redhead has the audacity to just grin wider at Beca, unfazed by the brunette’s death glare.

“Come on, Becs. Loosen up, you’ll be great. Be fearless.”

Soon enough, Beca finds herself calming down as her fingers work their magic and the music is flowing effortlessly over the dancing crowd.

Her navy blue eyes stay on Chloe the entire time, watching her co-captain seemingly have the time of her life as she sways and jumps and rocks out to all of her favorite mixes.

(Beca may or may not move on too soon from certain songs when she catches Chloe dancing too closely with Scott or Jackson or Cam. She definitely starts another track whenever Chloe’s sandwiched between the twins because _no._ )

It’s been a little over an hour and Beca’s sipping on the beer one of Chloe’s friends brought her when said redhead makes her way up and dances her way towards the amused brunette.

“Hey, Red. Having a good time?”

“The best! Well, it will be the best as soon as you come dance with me!”

There’s nothing quite like dancing with Chloe Beale. Whether it’s up on stage during a legit Bellas performance; a silly night in with their other friends as they dance to Cyndi Lauper and early 2000s boy bands; or a wild night on the town as they all but have sex in the middle of a club’s dance floor – dancing with Chloe gives Beca a heady rush that sets her bones aflame and has her losing track of time and her surroundings and especially let go of her inhibitions.

The redhead’s like a drug that Beca craves every _second_ because it makes her feel invincible.

Of course, that doesn’t mean she ever agrees to dance without giving Chloe a hard time first. But the redhead’s cutting her off before she can even fully open her mouth.

“No, don’t resist, Mitchell. We are dancing and you are going to love it. I’m not even going to pull you away from this stuff; we’ll dance up here.”

This gives Beca pause because she’s more than aware of how Chloe likes to dance, especially to the mixes she’s choosing to play here today; she’s not sure it would be appropriate and her eyes unwittingly travel to two women she’s also kept a close eye on for a while now. Chloe’s notices the distraction and frowns fiercely.

The ginger sways forward, stepping into Beca’s personal space and causing the brunette to squeak out in surprise as Beca anchors her hands low on Chloe’s hips, the older woman’s arms resting on the shorter girl’s shoulders, one hand slipping up to release Beca’s hair from her messy bun before brushing her fingers through it and eventually leaving it at the base of the brunette’s skull.

Chloe relishes in the way Beca swallows thickly at the touch, then again as Chloe’s other hand lifts up to idly run her finger along “the amazingly scary earspike” that just earned Beca a stage name before slowly easing into swaying to the rhythm Chloe’s setting for them. Beca’s falling into the familiar feeling of moving in sync with Chloe when the redhead leans in further, her soft voice carrying over the music to Beca’s ears.

“Beca, I don’t care what they say; I never have. I wouldn’t be here if it bothered me. And I don’t mean be here at the reunion; they used to say a lot of other more hurtful things in high school. But I didn’t let it get to me then and I sure as hell won’t now.”

Beca pulls back with a jolt, fury marring her features as her head whips around to look at the two women ogling her and Chloe even now. It takes her a moment to even register Chloe’s gentle touch at her neck, her co-captain’s thumb idly brushing against Beca’s thundering pulse as she tries to calm her down. Chloe makes sure to keep their soft swaying going as well as she lowers her voice some more.

“Hey, look at me, Becs. Look at me, I’m fine- better than fine. I could have let them dictate how I lived my life, but I didn’t. You met my friends; you know I did whatever pleased me and had no regrets. You know I _still_ live like that – grabbing the bull by the horns and never holding back from getting what I want. I’m happy, I’m healthy, and I’m here with _you_. Those two can go screw a cactus for all I care. All that matters to me right now is that I get to dance with you to the best music ever created.

So what do you say, Beca Mitchell? Will you be _fearless_ with me?”

Beca looks deep into Chloe’s eyes, the furrow of her brows easing and her angry, thumping pulse slowing as she watches the walls and clouds from earlier leave Chloe’s baby blues, the sun back in her eyes and practically blinding Beca with its radiance.

Her mind wanders to the night after this past year’s semi-finals when she gave Chloe a foot rub after their performance, her fingers curiously finding a small tattoo on the ginger’s ankle, only looking up from it when Chloe’s soft and sleepy voice informed her that it was the Sanskrit word for _fearless_ , not offering any other kind of information about it and so Beca didn’t push. Instead she sat, content to rub Chloe’s sore feet until the redhead fell asleep.

It takes no time at all for Beca to make a decision as she steps out of Chloe’s arms for a minute, turning to tweak the equipment. It takes even less time for Chloe’s frown to turn into a delighted grin that lights up her whole face as she hears the notes to the mash up of **Titanium** and **I Would Walk 500 Miles** filter through the speakers – Beca smirking as she returns to her.

As the pair re-tangle their limbs together and start dancing and grinding against each other without a care as to who’s watching, the last thing Beca registers before Chloe’s soft lips drop a seductive kiss against the corner of her mouth are the ginger’s words as they flow up into Beca’s ears as she whispers,

“Let’s give them something to gossip about, Becs.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hear ye, hear ye.
> 
> Come one and come all, for lo and behold, I have joined the confusing and button filled world of tumblr.
> 
> Come find me @dishonoringthefamilycow, let's talk, bounce ideas off each other, and just be merry!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe finds one last tattoo and Beca's forced to have a heart-to-heart conversation unlike any of the others before it...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys I did it! I finished this! This is the final chapter and I'm both thrilled that I managed to get this far, but also saddened that it has to end. But hey! I think it all ends on a nice note, and nobody will be left disappointed. I am so thankful to all of you for your support on my first big publication. Your reviews, favorites/follows, and kudos have put a smile on my face every time I got the emails for them, and they pushed me to keep writing. If anyone has a request, or a prompt or anything, even if you just want to talk, please don't hesitate to approach me.
> 
> A very special shout-out to my beta, once again, because I give her such a hard time during all hours of the day regardless of the 9 hour time difference, but she gives me nothing but support an encouragement in return. And another super special shout-out to a friend who was the sole reason and the main advocate for me to publish my writing. I am truly blessed with great friends.
> 
> Without further stalling, I present the final chapter! Read on and enjoy!

Chloe doesn’t believe in personal space, that’s just her thing.

Beca is resigned to this fact, and the fact that privacy isn’t really something she can have, especially since moving into a house with ten other girls – the brunette has seen more than her share of boobs, and other more traumatizing things.

This is why she may have (definitely) subtly started wearing nicer underwear, for those times when Chloe barges in unannounced (which is pretty often, Beca notes delightfully).

 (She’s also almost convinced Chloe has some kind of internal sensor that alerts her to the fact that Beca is getting naked).

This is why Beca doesn’t bat an eyelash when the redhead not only breezes into her room with the announcement that the Bellas are having an impromptu karaoke night (which Beca knows is actually code for booze. Lots and lots of booze) as she proceeds to make herself comfortable on Beca’s bed, pulling Beca’s laptop and headphones (a Christmas present from Chloe herself) closer with the excuse that they need a playlist to jam to (which is also code for snooping around Beca’s laptop so she can find and listen to Beca’s latest creations, finished and unfinished).

The brunette rolls her eyes when Chloe starts whining, drawing out her words – much like a child asking “are we there yet?” during an infuriatingly long road trip – because Beca has zero organization skills beyond properly labeling her tracks and now Chloe can’t find her latest mixes.

So Beca drops what she’s doing – which just so happens to be pulling on a shirt – and leans over Chloe to open the files for her.

Chloe – never one to shy away from a chance to admire beautiful people, especially if it’s Beca – permits her eyes to roam along Beca’s exposed skin, shamelessly taking her time and not bothering with being subtle about it either.

Beca smirks, Chloe’s attention thrilling her today.

“See something you like, Red?”

“I do, actually. Very much so, are you wearing Victoria’s Secret lingerie?”

The faint (and totally un-badass) pink flush that spreads along Beca’s flesh makes her regret not putting on her shirt first.

Chloe smirks triumphantly at the reaction, effectively letting Beca know that she’s won this round of flirty banter.

Beca mentally vows to get back at her soon.

(In reality, Beca’s so, _so_ okay with losing if that means she’ll see that mischievous twinkle in Chloe’s eyes more often).

The brunette barely straightens up – rolling her eyes as Amy’s Australian accented-words float up the stairs, demanding that “Strawberry Shortcake stop making out like dingoes in heat and come down with the music already” – and is walking around the bed again when Chloe’s hand reaches out and traps the younger Bella’s wrist between her fingers, Beca’s nerve endings heating up like billions of tiny suns sewn into the very fabric of her being.

Beca idly wonders how it’s possible that Chloe doesn’t feel her rising body temperature.

The Bella captain is turned around, and she looks on in confusion as she waits for Chloe to say something, or at the very least look at her. But something in the middle and to the side – around Beca’s ribcage, the brunette notices – has caught her fellow captain’s eyes.

Beca’s brain slows down because _holy shit, Chloe’s fingers are running along the **bare** sensitive skin of Beca’s ribcage._ The brunette’s confident her body temperature is so high that she must be giving Chloe third degree burns just by standing this close to the ginger.

A soft, almost nostalgic smile blooms on Chloe’s face, and all it does is cause Beca’s breathing to become even more embarrassingly labored under the redhead’s touch.

(She’s losing ‘badass’ points, she knows, but she’s never cared about any of that when Chloe’s touching her).

Chloe speaks up, her voice acting like a magnet as it draws Beca’s scattered thoughts together, and piecing the brunette’s brain back together like a jigsaw puzzle.

“Is this new? I’ve never seen it before.”

Chloe’s question grounds Beca’s senses, and she feels the ginger’s fingertip tracing something on her ribcage – letters – and Beca realizes what Chloe’s talking about.

Beca finds that she needs to clear her throat before speaking thanks to Chloe’s blazing touch.

“Yeah, it kinda just happened over the break when I went to visit Mom. I went to say hi to Joshua and to catch up while I was still in town. Next thing I know, I’m shirtless and on my back.”

It takes Beca a minute to comprehend what she’s said and why Chloe’s looking at her with too much amusement, the redhead’s raised brow and shameless smirk slapping some sense into Beca, who just rolls her eyes in embarrassment and earns herself a snort from Chloe.

“You know what I mean, Red. Get your mind out of the gutter it seems to always be living in.”

“I can’t help it, Becs. I’m talking to a hot, half-naked girl who is telling me all about being shirtless and on her back. The imagery is too good to pass up on even if I wanted to.”

Beca just rolls her eyes again because Chloe’s using that faux innocent voice and fluttering her lashes at a faster speed than usual, and now all Beca is wondering is how long such an act would last in a more _intimate_ setting.

Beca’s brought out of her own gutter by Chloe’s fingers resuming their heated motion along her skin, and the redhead’s slightly worried voice.

“Did it hurt?”

The brunette snorts, quite unlady-like, before replying.

“Like you wouldn’t believe. I bit the insides of my mouth so hard I drew blood. A lot. The inside of my cheek is still bumpy and scarred. Almost passed out a couple of times too.”

Much to Beca’s surprise, Chloe looks deeply troubled at this, her brows furrowing so deeply that the line between them forms an angry ‘11’. The concern slips into Chloe’s touch too because her hand is now splayed on the brunette’s ribcage, her thumb brushing back and forth in a gentle and soothing motion, almost like she’s trying to sweep and brush the pain of the already completed tattoo away.

The ginger’s voice, however, contrasts so sharply with her sweet touch as the hints of reprimand and faint touch of anger lacing it make Beca feel like a kid caught opening her Christmas presents early.

“Then why would you do this to yourself? Are you still trying to prove something to your parents? Because let me tell you, Beca, that’s just immature of you.”

Beca’s suddenly feeling defensive, so she bats Chloe’s hand away (way too harshly, she realizes belatedly when Chloe’s usually bright eyes darken with hurt), but there’s no taking her action back now so she might as well keep going down this path, right? Right.

(The brunette rolls her eyes at herself. She thinks she should have learned by now.)

She’s taken a step back and is looking for her shirt when she speaks up, “I’m a big girl, Chloe, and I can do whatever I please. Not to mention that I don’t have to prove anything to anyone, least of all my parents. Now if you don’t mind, I need to change.”

The dismissal is clear in Beca’s voice, and Chloe closes her eyes for a moment as she berates herself for overreacting, her words having obviously hurt Beca.

She opens her eyes just in time to see Beca – still fiddling with the shirt she picked up – start heading to the door, presumably to open it for her as a sign for her to leave. Chloe’s only got a second to react before Beca’s out of reach so she doesn’t even bother to think as her finger hooks into Beca’s jeans’ belt loop, turning the brunette back to face her, and tugging her gently back towards the edge of the bed she’s perched on, stopping the brunette and fitting her between her legs.

Chloe’s apologetic as she fiddles with the hem of her shirt, acutely aware that Beca still doesn’t have a shirt to play with herself.

“That’s not how I meant it, Becs, I’m sorry. I just don’t like the idea of you being in that kinda pain, especially if you can avoid it.”

Beca’s heart expands. Or her chest is collapsing, she can’t decide because either way her insides feel painfully tight. She’s panicking; Chloe looks so worried about her, and she looks upset with herself for upsetting Beca.

She had hoped beyond hope that she’d never have to explain this particular tattoo. But the closer Chloe looks to crying, the faster Beca’s resolve crumbles.

There’s no denying it now; Beca Mitchell is irrevocably and unapologetically in love with her _best friend_ , Chloe Beale.

Denying this fact to others has exhausted Beca, but nothing has tired Beca out like denying her feelings to herself.

Now, however, she sees no other choice except admit things to not only herself, but to Chloe as well.

If she’s being honest with herself, Beca’s glad she’s being forced to do this; they’re graduating soon, and Beca doesn’t want to have any more regrets than she already does.

Might as well go out with a bang, right?

Throwing caution to the wind, Beca takes a deep breath and allows her fingers to find their way into Chloe’s hair, intimately brushing her thumb along Chloe’s cheek as it passes her skin into her hair.

Chloe’s eyes widen as she looks up at Beca, the brunette’s breath catching in her throat because _those eyes are so, so blue._

Chloe watches Beca take another deep inhale, wondering why the younger Bella looks so scared. Why does her smile look sad?

“I did this for you, Chlo.”

Everything in the redhead’s throat and lungs seems to slow and stop, all the air within her body trapped, the oxygen neither flowing further into her body, nor being allowed release through her parted mouth. Her head was spinning and Chloe was sure that if she doesn’t remember how inhaling and exhaling works soon, something bad will happen. She swears the edges of her vision are blurring already.

_Is she saying what I think she’s saying…?_

So while the ginger dumbly stares back for a few more seconds before dropping her gaze back to the neat and simple black letters needled into Beca’s flesh, the brunette smiles fondly, albeit sadly, before forging ahead with her explanation.

“God, Chlo, I was just the sarcastic, hostile “alt girl”, forced to attend university and have a relationship with my estranged father and his new wife. I was the weirdo that didn’t have nor want friends, but then you barged into my shower and forced me to sing your “lady jam” for you.

Of course, your lack of boundaries and your-” Beca pauses, smirking as she lets her eyes roam for a moment before continuing, “confidence about _all this_ , led to me getting into the Bellas, and dear God almighty those months were torture.”

Chloe’s body feels hot as she keeps her eyes on Beca, internally thrilled at the way the brunette looks her over, Beca’s smirk making Chloe’s insides coil dangerously tight it’s almost painful. She can’t help but roll her eyes affectionately at Beca’s dramatics regarding their first year as Bellas together.

“Aubrey was a nightmare, the cardio was bleeping murder, and the fact that I was doing _Acapella_ had me feeling like I was going to barf. All. The. Time.”

The redhead’s smile is exasperated but she keeps silent because she knows Beca’s right, and nothing she says will change that.

“But I had you, and your pushing linked me to the Bellas and before I knew it, I had not only one friend – I had ten of the weirdest, most awesome group of girls I had ever met. And I couldn’t have been happier.

Acapella was actually starting to grow on me, the cardio was more bearable, and Bree wasn’t a pain in the ass anymore. Not much anyway. Life was – is – good.

And yeah, the whole thing with Jesse happened too, and I owe that to you too.”

Chloe’s enjoying this conversation up until Beca says that, and it shows on her face as her smile falters. The brunette hurries to elaborate.

“You made me join the Bellas, and that made me see Jesse and spend more time with him aside from at the radio station. And sure, we dated briefly then broke up soon after because it just didn’t feel right, but I made another friend. A really good one, and I’m grateful for that.

Plus, him spending so much time around us helped him and Aubrey get together which in turn made Bree more relaxed, so really, I’m actually thanking you for saving the world from Satan.”

 Chloe laughs, halfheartedly poking Beca’s side because Aubrey is still, after all, one of her best friends.

Beca’s smile is brief, and watching it slip from her face causes the redhead to sober up, looking back up into Beca’s eyes, cautiously optimistic about where this was all heading.

“I’ve spent the best four years of my life here, even if I am loathe to admit it, but it’s true. The Bellas have been a big part of that, and I felt like I needed to honor that.”

Taking another deep breath, Beca permits her fingers to softly massage the redhead’s hair, relishing in the feel of the strands between her fingers, the way that Chloe’s breathing catches as she keeps looking at her.

The brunette sees hope in the blue orbs she adores, and this gives her courage to keep talking.

“But if I’m being honest here, it was you – it has always been you, all along. Had it not been for you slipping past all my defenses, and bulldozing your way into my life – shower first – my life would not have been what it is now. I would have been miserable, I know that now.”

Chloe’s eyes fill up, the shine of her tears only adding to the brilliance of the blue orbs.

_She’s saying what I think she is…_

So Beca smiles, and wipes a stray tear off of Chloe’s cheek as it falls before talking again, the familiar sarcastic tone music to Chloe’s ears as the redhead’s hands grip Beca’s waist.

“I can spend the rest of my life – and I will, if you let me, but only in private or Aubrey will never let me hear the end of it – waxing poetic about your laugh and how everyone and everything else in the area is white noise as soon as I hear it. How things are always just a little blurry around the edges when you’re not around, and the world is always just a little blander and lacking the shiny coat that dusts colorful things until you’re back, and then everything is rushing back into a new kind of hyper reality that leaves me feeling like I’ve just gotten off of a rollercoaster. And I’m always in line for the next ride.”

Beca’s taken hold of Chloe’s hand, using the ginger’s fingers to trace the letters.

_T_

_I_

“I can take your ear off talking about how blindingly glowing your smile is, and how every time I see it I need to stop and catch my breath because it’s humbling to see how easy it is for you to paint smiles on the faces of everyone in the room, even the grouchiest “alt girl” in the dark back corner.”

Chloe’s tears are falling faster, Beca catching each drop without haste, their entwined hands still moving languidly along her bare skin.

_T_

_A_

“I would need an eternity to describe how utterly satisfying it is to drown in your eyes. The way they light up when you’re happy, like a calm summer day at sea. The way they cloud mysteriously, like a foggy night in the middle of the vastest sea, when you’re up to mischief, accompanied by the slightest of upturns of your lips, leaves me giddy with the notion of endless possibilities. And God help me, but when they darken with passion I find myself surrendering to the storming ocean, eager to brave the roiling waves and hope that they crash over me with even the smallest sliver of the passion I see in your eyes.”

Chloe’s barely holding back her sobs, but Beca’s looking at her with so much love that the ginger wonders if that was always there, and she was just too oblivious to see it.

_N_

_I_

“But it’s your soul that has me falling uncontrollably in love with you. Any soul that has come to know yours is a better one for it. You are inspiring, and hopeful, and everything that is good and beautiful in the world. You are radiant, Chloe, beyond measure.”

The redhead is a mess by this point, and Beca’s got tears in her own eyes too. But their hands don’t stop, tracing the final two letters.

_U_

_M_

Chloe’s fingers linger, and Beca lets them as she leans down, placing her own lingering kiss on the redhead’s forehead, smiling as she feels Chloe’s grip tighten on her middle and her breath catch on a sob. The brunette’s only got one other thing to say, and she’s unwilling to move away from Chloe’s skin just yet, so she’s more than okay if it comes across muffled by Chloe’s hairline.

“You changed my life forever with one song, Red. You turned my life into one giant medley.”

The redhead decides that she can’t take it anymore and lifts one hand away from Beca’s bare middle, tangling it in her hair and tugging the younger woman down.

Their kiss is all passion and raw emotion, with a definitive lack of hesitation. As Chloe’s lips move steadily, almost desperately, against her lips, Beca’s never been more sure of anything in her life; nobody else’s lips will ever fit hers as perfectly as Chloe’s Beale’s do.

And as the cheers of their eavesdropping Bellas – who only came up to see what was taking so long, honest! – finally break through the haze, and Beca faintly registers the flash of a camera and confetti raining down on them – presumably Fat Amy’s doing –  while Stacie gleefully yells out that “Bechloe is finally canon!”, the brunette makes a note to herself as she pulls back, breathing labored and smile face-splitting;

She never wants to know the touch of another’s lips again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hear ye, hear ye.
> 
> Come one and come all, for lo and behold, I have joined the confusing and button filled world of tumblr.
> 
> Come find me @dishonoringthefamilycow, let's talk, bounce ideas off each other, and just be merry!

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hear ye, hear ye.
> 
> Come one and come all, for lo and behold, I have joined the confusing and button filled world of tumblr.
> 
> Come find me @dishonoringthefamilycow, let's talk, bounce ideas off each other, and just be merry!


End file.
